


Maybe, Maybe Not

by scarletstring



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-01-16 12:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18521803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletstring/pseuds/scarletstring
Summary: Jungeun knows she has a soulmate, somewhere. Everyone does. But there's a difference-- she wants to make that decision on her own, and no name on her skin is going to change her mind.





	1. Bitter

She meets Sooyoung for the first time at dance practice.

 

Her fingers glide across the sign-in sheet for her name, scribbles her signature in familiar loops and curves and passes it to the next person on the list, a _“Ha Sooyoung”_ an anomaly on sheet of white.

 

“We're glad to have you in our class,” the dance instructor is polite before gesturing towards the rest of the students, clapping his hands. “Now for today's lesson…”

 

Jungeun tunes him out because she knows the drill; she learns the quickest, anyway. One preview and she's got it down.

 

“One, two, three, and four,”

 

But Ha Sooyoung moves like she's already mastered it. Jungeun already hates her.

 

“Impressive,” the instructor's praise is loud and clear, “again, from the top.”

 

Jungeun's never had to keep up. Not when she's always been the one to lead.

 

“Five, six, seven, eight,”

 

Her shoes squeak to each step, arms swift to lock, legs twisting and turning to the next stop. But she's a pop too slow, a wave too stiff, expression too weak compared to the new kid at the far corner; Sooyoung can’t blend in at the back no matter how much she might want to when her movements are sharp and precise in the mirror.

 

It’s only day one. Since when did Ha Sooyoung get so far ahead?

 

“Are you okay?” Jinsol has on her signature look of curved up eyebrows, her frown too deep to be anything else but genuine concern. Jungeun doesn’t like it. “You’ve been off beat the last few steps.”

 

“I’m fine,” she’s gritting teeth behind closed lips, eyes somehow straying back to watch Ha Sooyoung flick her hair and— _yikes,_ Jungeun grunts - pausing her steps; she hates how right Jinsol is because _damn it_ , she’s off by a second— _again._

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jinsol’s hand is on her shoulder, squeezing gently, as if it’d quell the frustration thrumming her chest.

 

Jungeun pretends she didn’t just glance back at Ha Sooyoung as if it wouldn’t hurt to take another peek, ignoring the faint warmth spilling into her cheeks at the ripple of muscle on the new girl’s stomach; all she was doing was tying her hair back.

 

Why couldn’t she have just worn a longer T-shirt?

 

Jungeun turns away, muffling her voice behind a hand, pretends that heat isn’t burning up her face. “Just fine.”

 

Geez, she’ll need a cold shower after this.

 

-

 

“Are you okay?”

 

It's not the first time Jungeun's heard that, but it whizzes past her mind as fast as the pain shooting up her leg, drawing gritted teeth and a groan too loud from her lips that it only calls Ha Sooyoung closer.

 

Jungeun flinches at a stranger's touch too heavy on her ankle, hissing at the sting of being moved, Sooyoung’s “sorry” not easing the fire beneath her skin.

 

It was supposed to be like any other dance practice. But Sooyoung’s stunning at the front with her steps too slick and her motions too smooth that somehow Jungeun was stupid enough to land on her ankle instead of her foot.

 

She should be better than this. She's _supposed_ to be better than this.

 

Long dark hair and a bright red cap covers her vision. “Here, let me help.”

 

Arms snake under her back and knees, Sooyoung’s warmth seeping through her leggings and shirt that it snaps her attention, recognizing exactly what Sooyoung’s about to do. She’s about to carry her and that just makes it _so_ much more easier to see the sweat on her skin, the curves of her jaw, the slopes of her arms—

 

Jungeun’s ears go ablaze. She doesn’t have to see them to know they’re terrifyingly red.

 

—Hell no; there is _no_ way she’d let that happen.

 

She shoves Sooyoung away.

 

“N-No! It's—” she rises on shaky feet, resting a hand against the wall. “It's okay, really. I can walk,” a hiss leaves her throat, lifting the weight off her injured leg. “I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Jungeun huffs. “Yes,” she waves off Sooyoung’s offered hand, looks away so she can't meet eyes that have captured everyone else's heart except hers. “I said I'm fine.”

 

She isn't. Far from it.

 

She's worked too hard to get to the top, be recognized for her flawless footwork, the flows in her arms, the execution of each expression; Sooyoung’s taken every recognition from her the moment she transferred in, like the perfect new student she is.

 

God, she hates being second place. If only Ha Sooyoung wasn't so ignorantly kind about it.

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

Jungeun settles by the stage, pretending to be busy on her phone, flicking through posts about cats and dogs so that maybe, _just maybe_ , they'd distract her enough to not pay the new kid any attention – especially not on the beads of sweat down Sooyoung’s collarbones, or the sharp edges of her jawline, or even the veins on her arms.

 

She can’t help but think back on the one moment where they weren’t at opposite ends of the room for once; how her injury had them be the closest they’ve ever been, Sooyoung’s touch still lingering on her skin. Jungeun sighs into her hand, ignores Jinsol’s “You okay?” and plays it off like her ankle pains her more than the memory in her head.

 

She just hopes that Sooyoung never saw how her ears gave her heart away.

 

-

 

Ha Sooyoung is great.

 

Great at dancing, great at singing, great at smiling - even great at kissing (how people even came to know this, Jungeun has no clue).

 

Even worse, she’s heard more than enough times how much people wish she would be their soulmate.

 

She scoffs. Soulmates. _Ick._

 

The thought of having Ha Sooyoung as her pre-destined lover has Jungeun rolling her eyes; as long as it isn’t her, she should be fine. Despite what everyone else says about how perfect she is, it’s all the more reason why she _doesn’t_ want her as one.

 

It’s not like Jungeun takes opinions from strangers, anyway; how they all love to chatter about the next best thing; spread word like there was nothing else to talk about but the nice and pretty new transfer student in class 3-D.

 

“She's so kind, too!” Heejin’s awfully cheery, though maybe it’s because Hyunjin’s feeding her food and it’s getting to her.

 

Jungeun turns away from their names tattooed on their respective wrists. Must be nice to find that destined-someone meant just for you. Not that she'd want one, of course.

 

God, she hopes she never gets one.

 

Jiwoo doesn’t lift her lips from her straw. “Who?”

 

Heejin rolls her eyes like the answer was obvious. “Ha Sooyoung. You know, the new girl?”

 

Jungeun huffs, picking at tapered ends of her leg cast.

 

There it is, again. The star of _every_ conversation.

 

Predictable how Jiwoo perks up at the mention of her, her straw bouncing in her drink, lips popped off it just to utter that god forsaken name.

 

“Sooyoung unnie? I know!”

 

Jiwoo's apple slips from fingers, rolling off to the end of the bench, cheeks tinged with pink and lips curled up into that shy smile she always wears whenever anything’s related to _her._

 

Jungeun bites down a groan, scribbles her frustration with stick figures on her napkin from yet another conversation about the “beautiful transfer student”.

 

She loves her best friend. Really. But Jiwoo needs to learn how to _not_ have heart eyes for Ha Sooyoung whenever she’s mentioned. Or at least, tone down on the typical high school crush with a “cool, mysterious” senior.

 

She can't imagine what Jiwoo would ever do if Ha Sooyoung were to breathe in her direction. Would she faint? Fall on her knees and offer a ring she doesn't have?

 

“Don't you ever get sick of talking about her?” Jungeun draws a tail and two horns on the stick figure, “She's not all that. No one is.”

 

“Wow, what's gotten you all salty?” Heejin’s always been too forward. But what bothers her more is that she doesn't know, either.

 

Maybe it's the way Ha Sooyoung’s two front teeth look like a rabbit's, or how her eyes are too big it's almost endless - hell, it's probably how she dances too well that she even manages to steal all of her attention.

 

Jungeun doesn't want to think about what that could mean. 

 

“Do you not like her, Jungie?” Jiwoo tilts her head, her green apple settled back in her hand. “I heard that she wanted to help you during dance practice last week. People wouldn't stop talking about it. Especially when you, um. Rejected her.”

 

_Crack._

 

Jungeun groans. Damn it. Her stick figure has a crooked foot.

 

She needs another pencil.

 

“It's,” Jungeun sighs, digging through her pencil case. Rejection - really? What an exaggeration. “She’s fine. I just hate hearing her name every ten seconds.”

 

Because even when Jungeun's in the safety of her room, alone with just her music and her head, Ha Sooyoung is all she still hears.

 

“Oh, um, sorry.”

 

Jiwoo doesn't need to apologize. It's not her fault the rest of the student body can't get over how in love they are with Ha Sooyoung. 

 

-

 

Sooyoung _is_ nice. That's part of the problem.

 

Jungeun can't bring herself to hate her as much because of it.

 

“You okay?”

 

She wonders if that's going to be the start of every conversation she'll ever have with Ha Sooyoung.

 

“I'm fine,” she slumps her crutches beside her on the bench, _thunk,_ pulling out her lunch box.

 

It's nice out, today.

 

Jungeun fixes her gaze on the several rolls of sushi, picking up her chopsticks, pretends that Sooyoung isn't still standing in front of her like she doesn't know what to do besides greet her.

 

It’s weird seeing Sooyoung be within arms length instead of at opposite ends of the hallways. She’s gotten used to having Sooyoung be a mere passing glance in the halls that anything closer has Jungeun biting her lip.

 

A flutter of dark hair and the soft hum of “okay” has Jungeun lifting her gaze to watch Sooyoung turn away, walking off to a bench three tables to her right.

 

When the seats Jungeun's saved for are taken, barely paying attention to Jiwoo’s chipper chatter, or Heejin’s cackling laughter, or Hyunjin’s snarky jabs, Jungeun spares another glance (tenth going on eleventh) towards the apple of everyone else’s eye.

 

For someone so often found on people's lips, Ha Sooyoung is completely alone.

 

Jungeun swallows another bite of her roll, pretending there isn't a prickle in her chest to see someone supposedly so loved have no one next to her.

 

-

 

Not being able to dance for the next several weeks is hard, but busing to and from school is even worse.

 

Jungeun's been offered rides to avoid that but she likes being simple. And stubborn. And a little hot-headed. She's used to being difficult.

 

She grunts, careful to hop just high enough to make each step. She's done this for the last three days, but it hasn’t gotten any easier.

 

She's gotten sloppier even, missing the final ledge and slipping backwards, fumbling to grip anything - the railing, her crutches, the driver frantically reaching for her hand - and wondering if she'll be wearing another cast. Probably on her neck, if she lands badly enough.

 

Jungeun braces herself, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping it won't hurt as much to meet concrete, hopes that at most, she won’t be able to dance for a month instead of two, but nothing comes except for warmth wrapping around her stomach and a stuttered yelp too close to her ear.

 

“A-Are you okay?!”

 

She would've laughed for how often she hears that line if it weren't for the fact that Ha Sooyoung was holding her up, breathing against her neck, panic too easy to hear on her tongue. _Of course._ She just _had_ to fall and it just _had_ to be the one person Jungeun’s tired of seeing.

 

Jungeun ignores the skip her heart makes when Sooyoung asks again, the question she’s somehow _not_ sick of hearing brushing against the lobe of her ear with lips too soft that it makes her feel hot and too bothered and—

 

“Are you okay, Jungeun?”

 

Oh, _god._

 

How her name rolls off her mouth like that; too smooth, too soft, too easy - and _way_ too warm. Jungeun hates how she can feel her pulse already rising. It’s dizzying.

 

“...I'm fine.”

 

They _really_ need to come up with better lines than these.

 

Jungeun wriggles her grip off, rubs at her ear to scrape off the heat Sooyoung’s lips have burned her with, trembling fingers taking back her crutches when Sooyoung bends to pick them up. Sooyoung’s hand is warm on her back, guiding her up the last step even when she never asked.

 

Jungeun doesn’t bother pushing it away, not when she’d rather just hurry along and pretend none of that happened, showing her pass to the driver before attempting to make her way towards a seat, struggling just to keep upright on wobbly legs (it’s hard when all she can still feel is the ghost of Sooyoung’s breath on her ear).

 

Jungeun grits her teeth, frustration boiling in her chest; what annoys her even more than Ha Sooyoung herself is knowing that her knees aren’t shaking because of the fall.

 

She finds a spot not too far from the doors, clutching her crutches close so she doesn’t take up more space than necessary, but when Sooyoung takes the seat next to her, Jungeun can’t hide the surprise that tumbles out of her mouth.

 

“You take the bus?”

 

Sooyoung arches a brow. “...Am I not allowed to?”

 

“I don’t remember ever seeing you,”

 

“Maybe because you never look,”

 

Their first words together that don’t consist of false concern or common courtesy and Sooyoung’s already being snide about it? Jungeun doesn’t know whether to feel proud of their progress or frustrated that she has a similar dagger tongue.

 

Jungeun dances fingers on the cushion edges of her crutches, shifting her gaze to the large cast on her foot, remembers that it's still Sooyoung’s fault she can't walk. Even if Sooyoung doesn't know that.

 

“Probably because you're not worth looking at.”

 

The flicks of her wrists, the sways of dark hair, the smoothness in her steps - Jungeun still remembers how flawless Sooyoung looked in Adidas pants and oversized white-tee before pain shot up her leg.

 

Sooyoung’s silence tugs at Jungeun's chest a little, biting her lip, convinces herself that she's being a tad too harsh on the new girl, and sighs - Jiwoo's rubbing off on her.

 

“I - um, sorry.” Jungeun picks at the lint on her jeans, “...I didn't mean that. You _are_ worth looking at - er, yeah, that sounds kind of weird, doesn't it? But - well, you're nice, and I was out of line,” she pinches herself, hopes it straightens out the words fumbling about on her tongue. “...Just...yeah.”

 

Chuckles worm their way into Jungeun's ears, realizing for the first time that the upward curls on Sooyoung’s lips have drawn a smile she's never seen.

 

It's not the courteous grin she sports at classmates, or the proud glimpse of white-teeth whenever an instructor talks praise; it's fleeting and has Jungeun scrambling to memorize it before it disappears, replaced with a tilt of her head and locks of dark hair.

 

“This is my stop,” Sooyoung’s standing, that chaste smile already gone, a smirk in its stead. “But I got what you meant, and I appreciate it. I just didn't think you were the type to stutter, but it’s cute.” She winks, as if delivering the final blow to Jungeun’s wounded ego (she never knew Sooyoung could be so forward). “Here's hoping you'll make it to six sentences instead of five, next time.”

 

Jungeun gapes; she takes back every single positive thing she's said about her - Ha Sooyoung is the worst.

 

“Wha— hey!” Jungeun fumbles with her crutches, curses for the fact that she can't run and shove a fist to her face.

 

Sooyoung throws her a dismissive wave over her shoulder, not once looking back at Jungeun before stepping out of the bus and disappearing around the corner.

 

Jungeun huffs, settling back in her seat and wishes the bus would get to her stop faster so every single pair of eyes won't burn holes through the side of her face anymore.

 

-

 

Jungeun can't say they're friends.

 

More than strangers but less than acquaintances; somewhere in the middle between Sooyoung’s surprisingly witty snark and her own love for never losing.

 

They're kind of perfect together that way (not that Jungeun enjoys her fleeting company - but Sooyoung’s a welcome change to Jiwoo's jolly happiness or Heejin's playful teasing; a softer sharp to Hyunjin's puncturing remarks).

 

“Your cast is bland,” Sooyoung prods at the edges, poking as if they were close enough to be less than ten feet away.

 

Ever since that bus ride, they’ve started talking more – as if waiting for a ride home was the only thing that needed to happen to spark up decent conversations.

 

Jungeun rolls her eyes. “Gee, thanks. It’s not like I want it to be pretty enough to stay, anyway.”

 

Sooyoung plucks a sharpie out of Jungeun's pencil case, frighteningly comfortable enough to not bother asking for permission before scribbling in an animal just below her toes.

 

“Who said anything about pretty? I'll make you look like the biggest thug around; no one'll dare try to pick a fight with you.”

 

Laughter slips so easily out of her throat whenever she's with Sooyoung, now. And it's the most frightening thing she's ever felt.

 

“With a poorly drawn bird? If anything, they'd probably want to beat me up even more.”

 

Jungeun follows every stroke Sooyoung paints on white cotton, her smile feeling permanent when she sees another bird being drawn - or at least, she thinks it’s one, listening to Sooyoung chuckle.

 

“That’s an owl,” she flicks her wrist, the last line on what looks like a bigger bird before peppering in little hearts everywhere. “And this is a swan.”

 

Jungeun nods along, tempted to roll her eyes because of how they look nothing like the animals she's just mentioned, but Sooyoung’s comically invested in making sure her cast is sprinkled with silly doodles - and Jungeun can't bring herself to hate any of it.

 

She’s getting too used to having Sooyoung around, already.

 

“...They're ugly,” Jungeun says, giggling at Sooyoung’s obnoxious sigh and rolling eyes.

 

“And you're uglier,”

 

“You’re so petty,”

 

Sooyoung snorts. “Sounds just like _you_.”

 

She tries to slap Sooyoung’s hand away, keep her from scribbling any more tragic drawings of animals that look nothing like animals, their laughter spilling through the air, until Sooyoung’s talking again and it halts all her thoughts – her heart pauses as quickly as her mouth clicks shut.

 

“I thought you hated me,” Sooyoung chuckles, tracing circles, drawing nothing in particular. “Then again, rumour has it that I make you nervous.”

 

Jungeun doesn’t know whether she should be impressed or not at how Sooyoung manages to make a loaded statement turn into something lighthearted – with a twinge of narcissism.

 

She scoffs, her heart picking up its natural pace again. “Not even close,”

 

“So, you don’t hate me?”

 

“What makes you think that?” She says, as if Sooyoung wasn’t actually right; it’s not like she needed to know, anyway. Especially not when it technically only surfaced during the times Sooyoung appeared more…just _more._ Too much that sometimes, Jungeun forgets she’s staring.

 

Not that she voluntarily wants to, of course.

 

“You’re always glaring at me,” Sooyoung pauses, tapping a finger against her chin. “Especially during dance practice.”

 

Jungeun scowls, ignoring the flame swallowing up her ears; it’s happening too often, lately. But to think Sooyoung even noticed – she should find more interesting things on Instagram to distract herself better; dogs and cats aren’t cutting it.

 

She huffs. “That’s only because I can’t keep my eyes off of you whenever you—”

 

Her words cut short, clamping her teeth shut, eyes widening at the way Sooyoung’s mouth falls open. _Crap._ Did she seriously just say that out loud?

 

Jungeun curses under her breath, trying to reel it back in, erase the silly mistake that she had just admitted to being too focused on watching her. She wishes she could just fall into a hole, or better yet, _run –_ stupid cast.

 

So Jungeun tries the next best thing – distract her.

 

“Your drawings are horrendous; they make me want to vomit.”

 

 _Please be distracted, please be offended, please just don’t bring that_ one _thing up—god, I’m stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

She blinks at dark tresses falling over Sooyoung’s shoulder, going rigid when all she sees is Sooyoung moving closer— _wait, is she—_ that Jungeun squeezes her eyes shut because _oh god—_ she can feel Sooyoung’s breath on her lips.

 

She _can’t_ be. Is she—

 

“Relax, I’m not going to kiss you.” Jungeun could practically _feel_ Sooyoung’s smirk, all smug and annoying and _dammit,_ she wants to punch her – and maybe kiss her, too. Just to prove her wrong. “Unless you want me to.”

 

She snorts, opening her eyes to see that Colgate grin and irises filled with flecks of brown and— _oh,_ they’ve got a bit of a topaz glow, twinkling and a little bright and—

 

Jungeun catches herself shifting forward, her thoughts halting at a truth she’s afraid of hearing even in her own head— _and a little irresistible._

She wants to run. She needs to run. _Oh god,_ she should just run.

 

“…Whenever I, what?” Sooyoung’s enjoying this way too much – Jungeun can tell, from the arch of her brow to the grin that’s eager to swallow her face. “You can’t keep your eyes off of me whenever I what, Jungeun?”

 

 _Whenever you look back at me._ She’s not dumb enough to continue that sentence out loud.

 

Jungeun clears her throat, leaning back so her heart could relax. “…Whenever you look like you’re about to break a leg.”

 

That was the best she could do – her chest is still thudding loud enough that her eardrums feel like they’re about to burst, as if it’s just one beat away from spilling out of her mouth for Sooyoung to hear. Her brain isn’t coping any better; not when all she can see are words telling her to suck it up – try out the truth for once, see where it takes them.

 

Jungeun yelps at a flick to her forehead. Did Sooyoung just—

 

“That’s boring,” Jungeun rubs at her skin, frowning as Sooyoung gets up to dust off invisible specks on her jeans. “I was hoping it’d be something more exciting.”

 

Telling Sooyoung she watches her because she wants to catch Sooyoung look back at her is definitely _not_ something exciting—at least, not for her. There’s no way she’s opening up a discussion on a topic she isn’t ready to listen to—she’s sure Sooyoung isn’t up to hearing it, either.

 

Jungeun waves her off. “Too bad; your ego’s been stroked often enough, I’m sure.”

 

Laughter spills from Sooyoung’s throat, crescent smiles painting over her eyes that Jungeun takes a moment just to memorize it all: the creases on her skin – how the corners of her lips curl up as she laughs, how her eyes crinkle in a way that makes a smile sketch across her own mouth, too.

 

When the bell rings and Sooyoung walks her to class, carrying her books and bags, and offering a gentle hand up a few flight of stairs, Jungeun wonders when she went from hating the new kid to thinking of how lunch should’ve lasted longer if only so she could spend a little more time with her.

 

“Jungeun?”

 

“Yeah?” She turns back around just as she’s about to enter her class, spots Sooyoung rubbing the side of her neck, eyes darting elsewhere that it takes a moment for Jungeun to recognize it. She’s nervous.

 

“Can I, um,” it’s almost disorienting to see Sooyoung - poised, calm, collected, Ha Sooyoung - shuffling her feet, bowing her head like she can’t meet her eyes. “Would it be okay if I walked you home? After school, I mean.”

 

Jungeun pretends her stomach didn’t just jump with what feels like a bunch of stupid butterflies at the thought of it.

 

“...You sure you’re not just trying to find out where I live so you could stalk me?” She plays it off like it’s one of their banters and not a possible start for something too close to her heart. “I don’t know about that…”

 

“Oh, er - well, then I take it back—”

 

Jungeun grasps her arm, squeezing gently so that Sooyoung wouldn’t be so fidgety anymore. “I’m kidding,” she nudges her elbow, curls her hair back behind her ear. “I’ll see you later then?”

 

Sooyoung’s eyes light up and that’s all it takes for Jungeun to get why everyone likes her so much.

 

“Yeah,” she squeezes Jungeun’s hand that's somehow still holding onto her. “Yeah, see you later.”

 

-

 

Maybe it’s the autumn weather, the cold getting to her, that makes Ha Sooyoung’s name roll off her lips too often that she's lost count.

_Sooyoung, Sooyoung, Sooyoung._

 

It tastes familiar and scary all at once.

 

“Yeah?” Sooyoung tilts her head when she calls her name for the fourth time, scratching at her turtleneck. Jungeun doesn’t know why it makes warmth cross her cheeks. She just hopes Sooyoung can’t see it, hiding away in her scarf. “What’s up?”

 

It's the fifth time Sooyoung’s walking her home, and Jungeun still feels both giddy and nervous about it.

 

At first, she thought Sooyoung was doing it out of sympathy - that her cast and her crutches called for her kindness and not just because Sooyoung wanted to spend time with her (why that even matters bothers Jungeun more than she'd like).

 

But even when the wooden aids are gone and the itchy prison isn't wrapped around her leg anymore, Sooyoung still offers to walk her home. Jungeun never says no.

 

Her chest always swells whenever she catches Sooyoung waiting by the gates, how her nerves spill down to her fingers whenever their hands brush because they've started to walk too close; still hanging by their sides holding onto nothing, but just enough so their skin could still bump each other every once in a while.

 

It’s all Jungeun needs to feel warm.

 

“...Aren’t you cold?” Jungeun’s gesturing to the crop top Sooyoung has on beneath her long beige coat; it’s not even closed. “You’ll freeze to death.”

 

Dramatic, she knows, but it gets the point across. And apparently a smile on Sooyoung’s lips. Jungeun hates that she wants to see more of it.

 

“Oh, no I’m used to it.” Sooyoung shrugs, brushing her hair back. “Look at you, all worried. It's cute.”

 

Jungeun huffs, burying her face deeper into cotton red, hopes it hides even the growing flush in her ears.

 

“...Shut up,”

 

She hears her laugh, but instead of nudging her by the ribs to get her to stop, Jungeun keeps silent so she could listen.

 

“Here we are,”

 

Her house comes into view too soon, the few steps up the stairs too short. Sooyoung nudges her forward, her warmth seeping into the small of her back.

 

“Go on, it's cold.” Sooyoung grins, lips a savory hue of scarlet, her hand rubbing the side of her neck like there's an itch. She wiggles her brows, all too smug. “You'll freeze to death.”

 

Jungeun rolls her eyes so she could stop staring at her new favorite shade of red on Sooyoung’s lips.

 

“Har, har, very funny.” She doesn’t move towards her house, instead, stepping forward and reaching up, poking Sooyoung’s hand that’s still rubbing at her skin. “You’ve been doing that a lot, lately.”

 

She pretends it isn’t the first time she’s gotten this close to her. Voluntarily, at least.

 

“Oh,” Sooyoung brings her hand down, tugging Jungeun’s along, and _huh_ , they’re holding hands, before Sooyoung’s letting go. Her warmth still lingers on Jungeun’s palm. “It’s nothing.”

 

She resists rolling her eyes, settling for a scoff instead. “Right. Whatever you say.”

 

“Really,” Sooyoung shrugs, stepping back, nodding her head towards her house. “It’s nothing. Now shoo. Go home. It’s literally right there.”

 

Jungeun sticks her tongue out, waving her off from the top of the stairs and watches Sooyoung walk away when she knows she isn’t looking.

 

For a moment, she wished Sooyoung kissed her at her doorstep, or at least, that she had enough courage to lean up, capture savory red and have a taste of what they’d be like together.

 

It’s only when she settles under the covers, her phone screen lighting up to Sooyoung’s _Goodnight_ text and how easily it paints a smile on her face that Jungeun realizes she wouldn’t mind having Sooyoung as her soulmate.

 

-

 

It takes three months for hers to come along, sketching pain across her skin.

 

Jungeun winces, clutching her hand, stumbling against the wall just beside dance class because _damn it, it burns._ Like fire grazing her skin, she could see wisps of smoke spill between her fingers, hoping that maybe, if she squeezes her wrist hard enough, it’d ease the flame licking beneath her palm.

 

She curses under her breath, wanting nothing more than for it to stop. It’s not like she needs a soulmate, anyway - she’s completely fine on her own. Better yet, she’d rather make the choice - have the freedom to choose who she wants instead of the world deciding for her.

 

But the moment the pain clears and the name is scrawled in pristine black for someone Jungeun doesn't recognize, her back slides against the wall, curling into herself as if it’d fix the ache in her chest and the choked sob from her lips.

 

All she can think about is how it _isn't_ Ha Sooyoung - and how it should’ve been.

 

_Sooyoung. Sooyoung. Sooyoung._

 

She chokes out a laugh, combing her hair back, wondering if her tears will stop falling any time soon. To think that she wanted anyone else's name as long as it was never Sooyoung’s. She should be happy. Relieved, even.

 

Jungeun buries herself in her arms, a noise mixed between laughter and a sob escaping her lips. Why can’t she just be happy?

 

“What's wrong, Jungie?”

 

Jungeun jumps, catches a frown and auburn bangs before shielding herself in her arms again. She forgot that Jiwoo recently joined dance class. Of course she'd be here.

 

“...N-Nothing,” she rubs at her eyes, knows that Jiwoo won't buy it, but it's worth a try. “It's nothing, really.”

 

Her voice stays muffled against her sleeves, not willing to look up and see brown eyes too concerned that it'd probably make her cry even more.

 

She hears shuffling, no doubt settling down beside her to comfort her even if it's just to be there. Jungeun appreciates it, but it's hard to ignore the burning on her wrist. She just wants to go home and scrub it off – make the name fade even just a little bit so it won’t remind her of who she doesn’t have.

 

“...I got my soulmate, today.” Jiwoo’s voice is soft, as if hesitant to share it, like it was a secret she'd rather keep to herself.

 

Jungeun perks up. “Y-You did?”

 

A nod, watching Jiwoo roll up her sleeve that Jungeun realizes that the names aren’t just fixed on a wrist, how the start of black ink is etched near the crook of her elbow. It’s kind of amazing how they got theirs on the same day. She would’ve expected Jiwoo to be her soulmate, if anything.

 

She’ll tell Jiwoo about hers, later; when snot and tears are finally out of her voice.

 

“...It's Sooyoung,” Jiwoo’s sigh sounds like a dream, almost relieved, like it was too good to be true.  “Can you believe it?”

 

Jungeun’s stomach drops at the name she wishes was on her skin instead.

 

 _No,_ she wants to say. She can't believe it. She doesn’t _want_ to believe it. Her mind whirls at images of Sooyoung and Jiwoo together, conjuring up pictures of dates they could have, moments they could share, kisses they could promise—

 

Jungeun buries herself deeper into cotton sleeves. She hates how she could imagine herself with Sooyoung, too. All snarky and no bite, playful shoves and nudges that don’t call for bruises except for the tingling in her chest whenever they get a little too friendly, a little too soft – and a little too close.

 

She wonders if Sooyoung knows; if Jiwoo’s name is written somewhere on Sooyoung’s skin, too.

 

“I guess that means I should finally talk to her and not just stare at her whenever she walks by, huh.” Jiwoo laughs, bright and shy and so much more happier than her – Jungeun flinches at the sound.

 

There's envy crawling up her chest and for a moment, Jungeun hopes that Jiwoo wouldn't. That she'd stay exactly where she's always been - looking from afar; far, _far,_ away.

 

_“Are you serious?!”_

_“As serious as the fried roots on your head, Jinsol.”_

Jungeun feels Jiwoo jolt beside her, hears her rise to her feet. It makes panic grow in her chest too, for how Jiwoo’s whisper – _I-It’s Sooyoung unnie!_ has her heart leaping in her chest.

 

She manages to stand on wobbly legs, smearing her tears across her sleeves only because Sooyoung’s laughter is echoing closer and Jungeun doesn't want her to notice. She gets away with a practiced smile and an exaggerated flailing of her hands to keep Sooyoung’s attention away from her eyes; they’d tell too much.

 

Practice goes horribly, as expected, and it doesn't help that Sooyoung _does_ notice enough to check up on her every time she makes a mistake.

 

“I’m fine,” is what Jungeun says whenever Sooyoung gives her that look - too caring, too gentle, too sweet, and not the words boiling on her tongue _“I wish it was you,”_ instead.

 

Jungeun cries herself to sleep that night, finding no comfort in Sooyoung’s routine text of _Goodnight_ when she knows she’s meant for someone else.

 

She wishes she still hated her.

 

-

 

Jo Haseul's nice, funny, kind, smart.

 

At least, that's what she hears.

 

Jungeun peers into the room filled with instruments and microphones and wonders if things would be different if she chose to sing over dance.

 

Would she still want Sooyoung?

 

“Hey there, are you interested in joining choir?” Short dark hair catches her eyes, small but peppy like there's a skip in her step.

 

Jungeun blinks, processing that _yes,_ she's the student council president with a winning Colgate smile that's both sweet and irresistible.

 

She's lucky to have Haseul as her soulmate. Maybe she could even give them a try; see what destiny has in mind instead of trying to escape it - to not have her choices be her own.

 

Jungeun turns away. “Sorry, I just wanted to see if a friend was here.”

 

But she's not Ha Sooyoung.

 

“Oh, okay.” The name on her wrist feels heavy, “Well, come by anytime if you want to join!”

 

Jungeun leaves, scraping her nails against the ink embedded on her skin, disappointment and frustration building up her chest every time she draws blood instead of the name she doesn’t want.

 

She'd rather not have a soulmate at all if it isn’t Ha Sooyoung.

 


	2. Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jungeun isn’t looking forward to lunch as much as she would have if Sooyoung was present.

Jungeun isn’t looking forward to lunch as much as she would have if Sooyoung was present.

 

It’s too bad she had to go off and do extra work for the teachers today.

 

“You've been hanging out with Sooyoung unnie a lot, lately.”

 

“...Yeah,” Jungeun barely got to settle down at the bench when Heejin throws a curveball. She knows what Heejin’s implying but she hopes she isn't bold enough to ask. “Is that a problem?”

 

“Nope,” the ‘p’ pops out of her mouth, lips twisting into a smile Jungeun’s learned to be wary of throughout all the years she's known her— which isn't a lot. “Just that I remember you saying you don't like her.”

 

“I—“ Jungeun sighs, darts her gaze elsewhere so she won't have to stare at Heejin’s wiggling eyebrows and the insinuation she's trying to make. “—Stop that, it's annoying. And no, I never said I didn't like her. I just didn't like how everyone wouldn't shut up about her.”

 

“But now she's all you ever talk about,”

 

Her neck feels like it'll break with how fast she turns to gape at Heejin, watching her blow at her nails and whistle as if she didn't just puncture her through the lungs and leave her speechless with a truth she didn’t know.

 

Until now.

 

“I— wait, really?”

 

Jiwoo twiddles with her thumbs. “...Yeah, you do.”

 

Jungeun pretends not to hear the envy in Jiwoo’s voice, ignoring the swell of pride in her chest that’s thriving off of Jiwoo’s lack of any type of relationship with Sooyoung. She knows she should be feeling guilt.

 

She waves her hand, dismissive. “Eh, she’s not as bad as I thought she’d be. That’s all.”

 

Heejin buys it, shrugging and going back to chewing on her sandwich. Jungeun takes note of Jiwoo’s slumped shoulders and considers that maybe, just maybe, she should let destiny be; even guide them along and push Jiwoo to get closer to Sooyoung. Their friendship matters; she should be helping her best friend be happy.

 

“One day we should all have lunch together,” Heejin pipes in, bread crumbs splattering over the wooden table. “I want to get to know Sooyoung unnie better, too.”

 

“M-Me too!” Jiwoo shrinks as soon as it leaves her lips, gaze darting back to furiously stare at her food, pink coloring her cheeks.

 

Jungeun hums, noncommittal, nodding along to show she’s heard. She can’t bring herself to make that promise. There’s a tremor in her chest, bubbling just beneath her ribcage, eager to crawl out and say _no._ It’s selfish. She knows that.

 

But she wants Sooyoung all to herself, just for a little while longer.

 

-

 

A duet.

 

Jungeun doesn't know how to feel about it.

 

“Try to keep up,” Sooyoung’s all smug and smiles in her crop top and adidas sweats and black baseball cap; she knows she looks good and she’s running with it— and Jungeun hates that it makes her dizzy with a blush just from looking.

 

She can’t stop staring.

 

Jungeun scoffs, turning away, crossing her arms and swallowing hard so her voice doesn’t come out dry.

 

“You sure love to talk about yourself.”

 

It’s a dance number they’re familiar with; they’ve practiced it often enough that the steps are embedded into her muscles like memory. But suddenly the teacher wants to add in an extra flare and thought that it’d be a great idea to pair up the perfect two.

 

He isn’t wrong, of course. But Jungeun’s not sure she could handle having Sooyoung close enough to feel their bodies sway in rhythm together.

 

“Okay, from the top. Ready?”

 

Jungeun settles into formation, the music kicking in, feeling the beat soar through her feet and spread into her limbs. It’s easy enough, so far. Pop and lock and twist and turn—

 

“Five, six, seven, eight!”

 

It’s their moment.

 

Sooyoung’s by her side in an instant, matching her pace; they move like clockwork oiled to perfection and for a second, Jungeun doesn’t want it to end.

 

She shifts in just as Sooyoung pivots to settle behind her, feels Sooyoung’s hand come up by her side, fingers tracing Jungeun’s jawline before it slides down, sketching over Jungeun’s collarbone to the middle of her chest, and looping over her waist.

 

It’s fleeting and barely there, but Jungeun swears it’s deep enough that it rattles her bones — every touch is in flames. It doesn’t help that she could feel Sooyoung breathe into her ear, breathless and heavy and all sorts of _too much._

 

Jungeun does her part and yanks Sooyoung in, nails digging into the back of Sooyoung’s neck, fingers tangled between messy tresses, and leans further in so their bodies melt together; makes sure they both feel the rhythm of each beat — and each other.

 

She turns her head just as the beat fades and stills before their lips get to touch.

 

Jungeun wonders what would happen if she leans in now, play it off as part of the performance, pretend she’s still in character and steal a kiss so no one knows she actually means it.

 

Sooyoung’s breathless pants has Jungeun moving forward.

 

She knows when the moment ends; ears drowning in applause and cheers and whistles too loud that it overpowers the music. Shoes go flying and hugs are thrown over them that Jungeun forgets that she had shared more than just a duet with Sooyoung.

 

Just not a kiss.

 

When the celebration is over and they’re back to practice like nothing’s changed, Jungeun can’t meet Sooyoung’s eyes; not when her skin is still burning up from every fleeting caress they’ve shared, haunting her like a phantom’s touch, lingering even when it’s been long enough to forget.

 

It was more intimate than the dance number needed it to be and Jungeun knew that— though the instructor was more than pleased _(“I better see the exact same passion on stage,”)._

 

She wonders if Sooyoung knew it, too.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jungeun wishes it was Sooyoung asking, gaze flickering to meet blonde hair instead of black, nodding so that Jinsol’s poor eyebrows don’t stay permanently curved upwards — even if it looks cute.

 

“Yeah,” her eyes shift towards Sooyoung near the front, watching her dance like nothing’s changed — except that everything did. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Jinsol hums, but it’s what she says next, so off-handed like it was nothing, that has Jungeun missing a beat and nearly landing on her ankle again.

 

“Everyone thought you two were going to kiss,” she’s a step too late, a beat too early. “I swear, everyone was holding their breath waiting for it.”

 

“W-Wait, really?”

 

“Yeah, you couldn’t tell?” Jinsol scrunches her brows again. “Then again, it was like you two couldn’t see anyone else but each other or something.”

 

Jungeun pretends her heart isn’t being loud in her ears, coughing into a hand, focuses on the next steps to this dance she couldn’t care less about.

 

“Right,” she mumbles, glancing over to Sooyoung again. “Or something.”

 

-

 

Their almost-kiss stays in Jungeun’s head like a daydream on repeat.

 

She doesn’t complain, not even when it gets in the way of listening to the teacher’s lecture, rambling on about something Jungeun still doesn’t understand, watching the clock tick by and wondering if Sooyoung’s up for some sushi for lunch.

 

When the bell rings, Jungeun doesn’t waste time packing her things, shoving her books in her bag and weaving through desks and students to find Sooyoung down the hallway; where they always meet.

 

Her feet skids to a stop behind a pillar, hiding behind stone cement to peer over and see that Jiwoo’s beaten her to her heart.

 

“H-Hey, Sooyoung unnie.”

 

“Oh, hey Jiwoo. What’s up?”

 

Jungeun’s ears strain to hear them, a mixture of pride and a tinge of green envy boiling in her stomach; she knows the signs even if Jiwoo’s already told her: the fidgety fingers, the twirl of her auburn hair, the swirling foot like she can’t keep still — all that was missing was the Valentine’s day card. And a box of chocolates.

 

Jiwoo wasn’t kidding when she said she should finally start talking to her.

 

“Got, um, any plans for lunch today?”

 

Sooyoung rakes her fingers through her hair, looking back, as if searching. “Yeah, actually. I’m usually with Jungeun. Have you seen her, by the way?”

 

Jungeun ignores how her heart’s skipping in circles from just the sound of her name on Sooyoung’s tongue.

 

“Oh! Yeah, she’s probably on the way. Should be here any minute, actually.” Jiwoo kicks at air, fiddling with her hands behind her back. “I just wanted to ask, if it’s okay with you, of course. About something.”

 

Sooyoung cocks her head to the side. “Sure, what is it?”

 

Jungeun holds her breath, feeling anxious when she sees Jiwoo take in a breath, letting out a sigh like she’s been preparing for this.

 

“Would you like to, I don’t know, maybe — sorry, I’m just a little nervous.” Jiwoo laughs, sheepish, bowing her head. “Would you like to hang out with me sometime? There’s a new arcade place I’ve been wanting to check out and, well, I’ve heard you really like those claw machine games — I mean, I do too. Just, you know, figured that maybe you’d like to check it out with me?”

 

She knows it’s selfish of her when all her head is saying _no, please; say no — we’ll make plans; argue over who could score the highest and who gets to take the plushy home—_

 

“I don’t see why not,” Sooyoung shrugs, a smile curling at the edges of her lips; subtle, but not any less charming.

 

That’s where her and Jiwoo differ; Jiwoo squeals out loud, shows her excitement with a lunge and a hug and a ramble of _Awesome! I can’t wait — we’ll have so much fun, Unnie!_ When Jungeun prefers to keep it down, settle for the nonchalant _Sounds great, can’t wait_ even when her heart is anything but calm.

 

She chooses now to announce her presence, make it known so Jiwoo doesn’t have to latch onto Sooyoung longer than necessary, and plays it off like she doesn’t know anything.

 

Jungeun learns, unfortunately, that three’s a crowd; she doesn’t get to eat much of her lunch when Jiwoo’s taking all of Sooyoung’s attention — along with her appetite.

 

-

 

Despite not having been able to hold a decent conversation besides “See you at lunch,” and “See you after school,” as well as juggling the possible reasons for their lack of communication being from either their more-than-intimate dance practice session, or because of Jiwoo, Sooyoung still chooses to walk her home.

 

For all the changes that has happened today, Jungeun’s relieved that this wasn’t one of them.

 

Their hands remain dangling by their sides, close enough to touch, yet not enough to hold on. Jungeun makes sure she swings a little more with every step so her knuckles could graze Sooyoung’s skin; have their heat mingle together even just for a little bit.

 

Jungeun decides to be brave, at least, enough to not drown in their silence. “...So,”

 

Well, it’s not much, but it’s a start.

 

“...So,” Sooyoung parrots, and Jungeun catches a twitch of a smile tugging the corners of Sooyoung’s lips.

 

Jungeun nudges their elbows together. “So.”

 

“So,” Sooyoung chuckles, bumping her back. “Is there a point to this, or are we just going to keep saying ‘So’ until we get to your doorstep?”

 

She laughs, thankful that Sooyoung eliminates awkward before it even gets a chance to grow, moving a little closer so their arms touch with every footfall.

 

“Fine with me, to be honest.” Which is the truth; Jungeun doesn’t mind spouting nonsense if it meant spouting nonsense together with Sooyoung. “Unless you prefer that we actually talk about something. Either works for me.”

 

Sooyoung hums, not moving away, even when their knuckles seem to be stuck together; as if the heat glued them on.

 

“I don’t care, either. Whatever you want.”

 

Jungeun contemplates what she wants; whether she should stretch her fingers out, curl them under Sooyoung’s and loop their skins together; finally stop teetering between two ends when she prefers one so much more than the other.

 

She nearly jolts when Sooyoung chooses for her, slotting her fingers between hers so they’re a tangled mess. It’s warm.

 

Jungeun doesn’t call her out on it, squeezing their hands together instead.

 

They walk the rest of the way in silence; like there was nothing more to say. Jungeun doesn’t mind — it’s the quietest they’ve ever been, but it’s the loudest she’s ever felt.

 

They still haven’t talked about their almost-kiss. But, as she glances down at their hands clinging together, Jungeun figures that they don’t have to.

 

And she’s more than okay with that.

 

-

 

Jungeun never planned on telling Sooyoung about the name on her wrist.

 

She thought that if she was the only one who knew and no one else, she wouldn’t be constantly reminded of it; that maybe then, she'd learn to forget it exists.

 

Jungeun never wanted to remember.

 

“Did you get a tattoo?”

 

Sooyoung’s curious eyes and outstretched hand reaching for her wrist has Jungeun flinching, gripping it close as if it could hide her secret away.

 

She stammers, heart picking up at the frown on pretty lips. “I - I didn't—”

 

Now all she wanted was to cross out Jo Haseul and scribble on Sooyoung’s name, make it somehow come true. She can't count how many times she's fallen asleep just to dream of having Sooyoung’s name written on her skin.

 

“Must be a pretty name,” Sooyoung’s voice halts her thoughts, blinking up at soft eyes and a small smile.

 

“W-What?”

 

“To have you as their soulmate,” she pauses, humming into her cup of coffee. “You said it’s not a tattoo, so I just. You know. Figured it would be that, instead.”

 

Jungeun doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She tells the truth instead.

 

“...I don’t want it.”

 

Sooyoung furrows her brows, her cup raised halfway. “Don’t want what?”

 

She slides her wrist over so Sooyoung can see, rubbing the name as if it’d scrape the mark away. “...This.”

 

It’s quiet, save for the small chatter in the background and the soft clinks of plates; it’s a pleasant sound compared to the drumming in her chest, how her nerves are spilling to her fingers, nestling into her head.

 

All she hears is how much she wishes it was Sooyoung’s name instead.

 

“...Me neither,”

 

Jungeun’s fingers go rigid, her heart pausing to watch Sooyoung tug at her collar, pulling it down to reveal a bandage embedded on the spot she’s been so keen on scratching, lately.

 

She feels like she’s sinking.

 

There’s a chuckle. “Yeah, I kind of scraped it hard enough it bled,” Sooyoung’s combing her hair back. “I don't mind though. At least this way, I don't have to see the name. Not as often, anyway.”

 

Jungeun wants to ask— is it Jiwoo? But Sooyoung doesn't look like she wants to elaborate further, and Jungeun’s not sure she's ready for the answer, so she settles for laughing it off, thankful that this way, if tears come along, it wouldn't be out of place.

 

They leave the topic behind in favor of debating over who had the better dance style; playful and familiar and something Jungeun never wants to change.

 

But once in a while, she’d find herself glancing back at the bandage on Sooyoung’s neck, how it manages to keep Jungeun’s throat dry no matter how many times she drinks her coffee.

 

Jungeun would’ve pestered Sooyoung more if she had known it was the name of her soulmate and not just an itch on her skin.

 

-

 

Jo Haseul was never supposed to know.

 

Jungeun didn’t mean to make that mistake.

 

She’d nearly crashed into her on the way to dance practice, Sooyoung laughing beside her, their hands still entangled together.

 

Jungeun’s glad that despite knowing they’re both meant for someone else, they still hold on like they only have each other.

 

“Woah, there.” Haseul stands upright like the student council president she is, hands on her hips. “No running in the halls; don’t you two know this already?”

 

“Sorry,” Sooyoung’s sheepish, rubbing her neck; it’s become a habit of hers— Jungeun actually really likes it. It’s as if she can’t help but instinctively try to rub it off.

 

Jungeun apologizes too, bowing, tucking her hair back on the way up.

 

Haseul looks petrified.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Jungeun says, feeling her brows crinkle, following Haseul’s gaze to see that she’s staring at her—

 

Her eyes widen.

 

Sooyoung’s fingers curl around her wrist, Haseul’s name hiding beneath her grip as she tugs her forward, calls for Jungeun to look up and find her small smile — unsure and hesitant, but encouraging all the same.

 

Jungeun chooses to follow her.

 

“Sorry, Unnie! Won’t happen again!” She yells over her shoulder, pretends it doesn’t sting to see Haseul still frozen, not once turning her head to screech back at them for running again.

 

It’s only when Sooyoung pulls her into an empty classroom and not their dance room that she realizes there are tears in her eyes.

 

Sooyoung runs her thumbs over her cheeks, too close and too gentle, swiping away pain that Jungeun didn’t think she’d feel for someone she doesn’t want. She doesn’t even know why she’s crying.

 

“S-Sooyoung unnie, I don’t— I don’t know why I...”

 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Sooyoung’s eyes express too much; she can’t read any of it, but Jungeun wants to get lost in them, have her heal the turmoil swirling in her chest. “I’m here.”

 

Jungeun can feel her breath on her lips, catching how Sooyoung’s gaze flutters to her mouth; she wants her to lean in, kiss this all away, make her forget that Jo Haseul is hers and not Ha Sooyoung.

 

She’s left a giggling and sobbing mess when Sooyoung settles for kissing the tear tracks off her skin instead.

 

-

 

Jungeun wants to forget that she has a soulmate.

 

“You’re zoning out again,”

 

Jungeun blinks from the nudge against her shoulder, catches dark strands flit across her vision before auburn eyes and smiling teeth take her full attention.

 

Sooyoung taps their noses together, and stays. “What are you thinking about?”

 

Always a tease.

 

Jungeun almost says _You_ before she's swallowing the letters, gulping it down and hoping Sooyoung can't see she's biting her lip to keep her mouth from moving forward.

 

“...Nothing,”

 

It's hard to stay still when Sooyoung’s close enough to kiss.

 

“Can't be nothing when I can see you blushing.”

 

She flinches back, more for the sake of her heart than her head, how logic tries to reason that _no, Sooyoung doesn’t know - does she?_ her chest drumming to seal the space up - have distance no longer exist.

 

“W-Whatever,” Jungeun waves her off, tries to appear more nonchalant so Sooyoung can’t hear the storm in her chest. “Anyways, what were you saying? I haven't got all day.”

 

She really doesn't. Work in an hour, dance practice in the evening, and then assignments before bed. Sooyoung inviting her out for coffee seemed out of the ordinary; their friendship was wilder than this.

 

Jungeun won't admit she’s hoping that Sooyoung would ask to be more than that.

 

“Your wrist,” Sooyoung’s fingers are reaching across the table, warm around her skin, lifting her hand. “I got you something.”

 

She ignores the hope crawling up her throat; that it doesn't sound too obvious when she finally finds her voice.

 

“...What is it?”

 

Jungeun gapes at a brown watch, feels the cool leather slip around her wrist, hiding away her soulmate’s name tattooed on her skin.

 

Sooyoung pats her hand. “I know how much you hate looking at it, so I figured you'd appreciate looking at something more worth your time.”

 

Jungeun traces the numbers. “...You really didn't have to,”

 

“With how often you look at it like you want to cut your whole hand off?” Sooyoung snorts, “Yeah, I think I did.”

 

She cracks a smile. Sooyoung never really likes saying how much she cares. It's cute.

 

Jungeun catches Sooyoung scratch at the space below her ear, knowing full well there's a name that isn’t hers printed on her skin.

 

“What about you?” she reaches up, combs back dark tresses over Sooyoung’s shoulder to flit fingers across the bandage that’s still hiding away a name. How she wishes it was hers. “I hope you're not planning to wear turtlenecks the whole summer.”

 

She hears her chuckle, the laughter thrumming beneath her touch. “Probably a choker. At least they're in style.”

 

Maybe she'll buy her one; something to help hide the name Sooyoung dislikes so much.

 

But more than anything, Jungeun wishes she could just kiss it away.

 

“It’d be pretty crazy if it was you, huh.” 

 

Jungeun winces, pulling back and laughing it off, hurt at the confirmation that it really isn’t her. Her head’s already swirling with possibilities— is it Jinsol? They seem to get along well enough; they’re the same age, too. And they’re even roommates. Why wouldn’t it be her?

 

Or is it Jiwoo? The one who already has Sooyoung as her soulmate? God, it probably is, isn’t it. She has to be the one – she wouldn’t be surprised if it is. They’d be cute together—like a match made in heaven. Jiwoo’s the type to ramble, go on and on about things she loves. Sooyoung loves to just listen.

 

They’d be perfect.

 

Jungeun squeezes her eyes shut, tries to make the picture of them together disappear. She never wants to know who it is.

 

“...Yeah,” her hand drops to the edges of Sooyoung’s turtleneck, lifting it up so she can’t see the bandage, straightening the creases. “...Yeah, it’d be crazy.”

 

Sooyoung hums, raking her hand through her hair. “I wouldn’t mind it, you know.”

 

“…You wouldn’t?”

 

“I’d rather it be you.” Sooyoung says it so surely; like it was true. 

 

Jungeun’s eyes flicker to red lips; _god,_ she wants to kiss her.

 

She attempts to reel reality back in, play her part of their back-and-forth banter, and erase dangerous temptation that has her throat in a chokehold, slapping Sooyoung’s arm.

 

“You wish.” It’s scathing, said like it was a joke, paired with laughter so Sooyoung can’t hear how big of a lie it actually is.

 

Jungeun isn’t sure if she’s seeing things when pain crosses Sooyoung’s expression, flickering back to her signature smirk and arched brow as if it was never there.

 

“I take it back, I’m way too good for you.” Sooyoung flicks her hair, exaggerated like out of a shampoo commercial, grinning as she stands, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Anyways, I have to go. I better see you using that watch, got it? No excuses to be late, now.”

 

“Wha—I’m never late! That’s all _you._ ”

 

Sooyoung winks, dismissing her with a lazy salute. “Touché.”

 

Jungeun rolls her eyes, waving her off with a shake of her head and watches Sooyoung leave, her laughter blending into the background noise of endless chatter, the bell ringing to announce she’s gone.

 

She settles her gaze back on the watch on her wrist, tracing the numbers on its face and wondering if Sooyoung was right—that she’s too good for her and that’s why they’re not meant to be.

 

_(“I’d rather it be you.”)_

 

The memory’s embedded behind her eyes; vivid that it makes her heart tremble to see it again.

 

Jungeun wonders if Sooyoung would ever hide her name if she was her soulmate.

 

-

 

Sticky like summer rain, Jungeun wants nothing more than to scratch off the permanent image of Jiwoo and Sooyoung together in her head.

 

Jiwoo’s off with Sooyoung, more bold, more wanting, more obvious with her advances— if the kiss on Sooyoung’s cheek earlier was anything to go by.

 

She finds Haseul in the music room, tinkering with the stands and huffing through setting it up for practice later today. Jungeun’s not sure if it's the right thing to do, looking for her.

_You're mine and I don't want you but I sort of need you right now._

 

Haseul seems to get her even when she hasn't made a sound, or maybe it’s because of the tears that already mark her face, how it stains down to her chin and doesn’t stop, that gets her to usher her over with a nod, making room for two on the little stage.

 

“...You don't have to say anything, you know?” She pats Jungeun’s arm, a smile curling across her lips. “I've got a pretty good shoulder to cry on. Or so people tell me.”

 

Jungeun laughs between hiccups, taking her offer and tilting her head to find comfort in someone she’s been so adamant to avoid. She hasn’t seen her since that moment in the corridor — that same day she got to feel Sooyoung’s kisses on her skin.

 

It’s just her tears and Haseul; how quiet she tries to keep her voice in, crackles of a sob piercing through her throat every once in a while, her hair draping over her face like a curtain so she could hide away and forget that there’s more than just them. If only the windows in the classrooms were tinted.

 

Haseul pats her head.

 

“Not going to lie, I'm kind of offended you don't want me as your soulmate.” Haseul says it with a laugh, her thumb dancing over Jungeun’s wrist, hovering just above the wristwatch. It feels weird— and oddly comforting. “Doesn't help that you want Ha Sooyoung, of all people. Everyone wants her, for some reason. She's way too into herself, though.”

 

Jungeun sniffles, wiping a few tears with the corner of her sleeve. “Aren't you the student council president? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, nice?”

 

“Yeah, I am.” Haseul giggles, shrugging; the movement makes Jungeun move along. “That's why I'm allowed to say it. And no, I’m not _just_ nice. But I’m glad you think so.”

 

Jungeun hums, fiddling with the cuffs of her jeans.

 

“...She _is_ pretty into herself,” Jungeun says, mumbling against the hem of her sweater, attempts to rub away the tears from her lips.

 

“Right?”

 

Jungeun chuckles; Sooyoung’s got an ego — but at least she can back it up. Doesn’t make it any less annoying, though. Still, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Especially when she shows she cares more than she’d like to admit.

 

She wishes Sooyoung was here to kiss her tears away, again.

 

“God, you’re so in love with her.” Haseul’s voice comes out like a fact, so sure, as if it’s the only truth that exists — it has Jungeun jolting back, rubbing at her eyes just to see if Haseul’s playing with her. “I could practically feel you think about her. It’s surreal. And no, it's not because I'm your soulmate; I'm just keenly aware of other people.”

 

“I—I, what?” Jungeun blinks her pain away, scrambles to tuck her hair back to find Haseul laughing, hunched over and holding her stomach. “Wait, what do you mean? Hey!”

 

Haseul just keeps on cackling even when Jungeun slaps her in the back, whining about how loud she’s getting _— “Shh! Everyone’s starting to stare through those stupid windows!”_

 

“Y-You…” Haseul flicks off the tears from her eyelids, her giggles trickling to a sigh. “...You have no idea, do you?”

 

“About what?”

 

Jungeun watches her tilt her head, a smile painting her lips; like she knew something she didn’t.

 

Haseul tinkers with her watch, removing the latch and peeling it off that Jungeun’s about to yank it back on, maybe yell at Haseul too for doing something so insensitive and—

 

—Her words disappear off her tongue when Haseul plucks a pen out of her pocket, inking in Sooyoung’s name to cover her own.

 

“You’re so in love with her that you’re mad at the world for not thinking the same.”

 

-

 

Haseul was right; she is mad.

 

And she doesn’t know what to do with it.

 

Jungeun finds herself at a club she doesn't frequent, sitting next to a girl she doesn't know and couldn’t care less about, who's too eager for a night in her bedroom and a spot between her legs.

 

But she kind of smells like Sooyoung when she's close enough to touch, sort of looks like Sooyoung whenever she laughs, and even talks like Sooyoung with that arrogant edge. Jungeun’s sure she could fool herself into thinking she _is_ Sooyoung — just for tonight.

 

So she brings her back home, clutches her close, and lets her sprinkle kisses and sweet nothings to mark all over her skin.

 

When she comes, Jungeun makes sure not to scream out Sooyoung’s name.

 

-

 

Morning’s usually feel like a slap in the face.

 

But this one’s worse.

 

“Why isn’t she here today?” Jungeun asks like it’s out of curiosity and not genuine concern; Sooyoung’s never missed a day of classes— she especially wouldn’t miss out on dance practice.

 

Jinsol leans in closer, keeping hush like it was a secret. “Bruises started appearing on her skin. Apparently it’s because her soulmate went doing the— you know, _do._ ”

 

Jungeun gapes. It feels like she’s frozen over, rigid as if her feet had been nailed to the floor.

 

It can’t be.

 

“W-Wait, what do you mean?” The syllables tumble out of her mouth; her fingers are shaking and her knees have grown weak, staggering forward to grip Jinsol’s arms. “What bruises? Where? A-And how?!”

 

Jinsol shrugs. “Beats me. All I know is that she woke up this morning not feeling well. She said it burns to touch them.” She checks her phone, scrolling through a block of text, showing her words in black and white. “I asked Haseul about it since she loves this soulmate stuff. Apparently it’s to let her know that her soulmate went off having fun with someone else. Crazy, right?”

 

Jungeun has no answer to that, her mind whirling of the times she’s spent with Sooyoung where they’ve talked about the name on her neck; how Sooyoung refused to show her, told her it was nothing— that she’d rather not have it at all.

 

_(“It’d be pretty crazy if it was you, huh.”)_

 

Yet she still said things like—

 

_(“I wouldn’t mind it, you know.”_

_“…You wouldn’t?”_

_“I’d rather it be you.”)_

 

Jungeun clutches onto Jinsol tighter; she swears she’s about to fall over with how her legs continue to tremble.

 

Why would Sooyoung lie? Why would she pretend that she didn’t have her when she already had her right from the start?

 

“J-Jungeun?!”

 

Jinsol’s voice barely makes it into her ears, bidding her a quick goodbye, swerving between students, mumbling fleeting apologies and sprinting out the door because she’d rather see Sooyoung than dance to a song without her.

 

Her heart’s stuck in her throat, tears blurring her vision, her lungs burning for oxygen, but all Jungeun could think about is that she’s the one.

 

She’s Sooyoung’s soulmate. Her. It’s her.

 

Oh god, it’s _her._

 

Jungeun swipes off the tears from her cheeks, the smile growing from her lips instinctive and happy.

 

She needs to see her.

 

Even if Haseul’s the one etched on her skin, _she’s_ the one written on Sooyoung’s— and it’s more than enough for Jungeun to hope that maybe, _just maybe_ , what she wants and what destiny prefers, can finally agree on something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a trip. At least, for me. I admit, I had so much fun writing this update. It took me on a ride I've been missing for so long. You may have noticed that the total number of chapters changed. It got a little longer than expected. 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you all have enjoyed this update. Until next time.


	3. Crave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sooyoung gets her soulmate’s name sketched into her neck like the sun chose to scorch heat down her skin, she juggles between balancing her coffee in one hand and clutching the flame as if it’d make the invisible fire hurt any less.

When Sooyoung gets her soulmate’s name sketched into her neck like the sun chose to scorch heat down her skin, she juggles between balancing her coffee in one hand and clutching the flame as if it’d make the invisible fire hurt any less.

 

She manages to save her drink but she’s better off dropping it and tending to her neck  instead—  _ouch_.

 

It’s a good thing her roommate's not home; she'd rather not have her all fussy and worried— even if she looks cute with her signature curved up eyebrows and pouty lips.

 

She stumbles towards the sink, hissing when it sizzles to touch, smoke filtering between her fingers. Running water soothes a portion of the pain, but that’s all it does— a whole lot of _nothing_.

 

When it clears, droplets of liquid dripping off the loops and cursives of each letter, she stares at a name.

 

Kim Jungeun.

 

Doesn’t ring a bell.

 

Her fingers trace the edges of the ‘n’, attempts to scrape it off, see if the ink could peel away from her skin. But it’s like it was made to be there, embedded and frighteningly permanent that Sooyoung has half a mind to just break a wall — and maybe punch a hole through a mirror, while she’s at it.

 

She steps back, tries to wipe the name off again, skin going pink from each pressure her fingers make.

 

Oh well. Not a big deal. She’s got more pressing things to worry about – like fitting in at a new school and handling all the eyes that never seem to want to leave her. She’ll worry about soulmates, later.

 

Not like she'd let destiny dictate her life, anyway.

 

With concealer in hand and trained flicks of her wrist, Sooyoung watches every letter disappear, covering up the obvious mistake tattooed on her skin.

 

-

 

It's at dance practice that Sooyoung notices there's someone sharing the same name on her neck.

 

A brunette with blonde and red streaks in her hair, paired with a fiery temper and a mouth too sharp that it has Sooyoung wondering if she's an asshole ninety-nine percent of the time.

 

All she's been doing so far as the new kid is being nice.

 

"I'm fine,"

 

Sooyoung shrugs. She's not going to argue with someone who can't keep the knives out of their tongue.

 

She pulls her cap a little lower so this Kim Jungeun can’t see she’s rolling her eyes, shoving a fist into her adidas pocket.

 

"Okay."

 

She doesn’t believe that she’s “The One.” Sure, she’s got a pretty face, easy on the eyes, and she doesn’t have two left feet on the dance floor, but Sooyoung’s not convinced; soulmates can’t be this easy to find.

 

But when Jungeun’s on the floor clutching her ankle five days later, there’s a twist in Sooyoung’s stomach and a throbbing pain on her neck, the name pulsing beneath a thick layer of concealer as if to tell her she's hurt.

 

She didn't even know soulmate marks could do that.

 

"Jungeun?!"

 

Jinsol's there wearing panic on her skin, fussing over Jungeun with those curved up brows and signature frown. She hasn't known her roommate that long, but she's easy to read like a diary left open— all heart and no lies, too soft, and way too nice.

 

Sooyoung contemplates moving forward, her steps pausing as if hesitation thrums through her legs.

 

It’s not like she wants to help Jungeun out, but the closer she gets, the less it hurts, and Sooyoung thinks it’s a clever— and _evil_ , mechanism to force people into picking their soulmates out of sheer need just to ease the pain.

 

All the more reason not to.

 

She crouches so she can hold Jungeun, entranced by the soothing calm that washes over the scar on her neck as soon as they touch.

 

"Here, let me help."

 

The pulsing ache completely disappearing when Jungeun’s halfway into her arms is more than enough to confirm she’s the same person destiny decided to tattoo into her skin.

 

“N-No! It’s—" Sooyoung grows keenly aware of Jungeun's fingers curling into her shoulders, shivers crawling down her spine when Jungeun's breath grazes the side of her jaw. "It’s okay, really. I can walk, I’m fine.”

 

The throbbing comes back as soon as she’s shoved away. She shouldn’t be surprised anymore; Jungeun’s made it clear she’d rather be anywhere else but near her.

 

Good thing she’s quick on her feet, barely stumbling backwards before there’s balance again between her shoes and the floor, dusting off the creases on her shirt Jungeun marred with her hands.

 

Sooyoung pretends it doesn't hurt, the name burning hotter on her skin under all the concealer.

 

She refrains from clutching her neck, ignores how her legs itch to sprint to the nearest exit just so she could wash the pain away.

 

"Okay."

 

Out of all the possible people she could have, Sooyoung didn't think she'd get an asshole for a soulmate. But at least this way, she won’t have to worry about catching feelings.

 

-

 

For every polite "hello" and shy "hi" and chipper "hey", Sooyoung wonders if one of them is even genuine.

 

She nods in return for every greeting she hears; she’s getting used to them now, faces gradually growing familiar yet there’s no name to tie them to.

 

Apparently she's great.

 

Great at dancing, great at singing, great at smiling - even great at kissing (how people even came to this conclusion, Sooyoung has no clue). She isn't complaining, though.

 

Strangers at every turn, all playing nice but no one's bothered to actually get to know her, more fascinated with the rumors attached to her name – it still sucks being the new kid.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jinsol’s grip is warm around her wrist, guiding her towards their first class of the day. She’s the closest she’s got to a friend, even if it’s primarily because they were roommates.

 

“Yeah,” Sooyoung follows her in, flitting fingers through her hair so the strands could cover her neck; concealer’s more than enough, she’s sure, but it never hurts to be extra careful. “Just still getting the hang of everything.”

 

She would’ve loved to show Jinsol the secret on her skin, have someone to talk to about it - as well as what to do, but knowing that she’s probably close friends with Jungeun, she’s better off keeping it to herself. Wouldn’t want Jungeun to find out that her heart supposedly belongs to her.

 

Sooyoung snorts at the thought.

 

What a joke.

 

“Nice of you to try to help Jungeun, by the way.” Jinsol starts, pulling out her notebooks. “Even if she wasn’t all that...well, welcoming.”

 

“Is she always like that?” Sooyoung doesn’t care much, but it doesn’t hurt to make conversation when class hasn’t started yet.

 

Jinsol shrugs. “Not really,” she pauses, flipping through pages. “Maybe she’s just a little bothered.”

 

“Bothered?”

 

“By you,”

 

Sooyoung frowns. “Me?”

 

She sees furrowed brows again; wiggling, so characteristic of her. “Yeah, you never noticed?”

 

There wasn’t anything to pay much attention to, if she were honest. She was more inclined to ignore anything related to the name on her neck - especially the person herself.

 

She feels Jinsol staring, as if attempting to read whatever expression is on her face. But there shouldn’t be anything for her to find except confusion.

 

“You’re better at the one thing she’s good at.” Jinsol pauses, as if contemplating the words she’s chosen, grimacing as if regret is piling up as soon as it’s been said. “...Supposedly.”

 

Huh.

 

“Er, thanks? I guess.”

 

“It’s just something a lot of people have been saying, lately.” Sooyoung watches her tap fingers on her desk, as if the nerves can’t help but dance tremors along the surface. “Not to say it isn’t true, because I’ve seen you dance, of course. You’re _amazing_. It’s just…”

 

She taps Jinsol’s wrist. “I know,”

 

Her smile is grateful. Sooyoung can’t help but return it.

 

She gets it. Jungeun probably finds peace in the one thing she knows she’s good at - or at least, one she loves, and to have the stage where she shines brightest have the spotlight follow someone else - Sooyoung would feel the same.

 

Their teacher stumbles in, arms filled with papers that it has a few students chuckling for the bed-hair still strewn about on his head.

 

“Jungeun’s great,” Sooyoung says, recalls how seamless Jungeun makes each step. Not that she paid too much attention, of course. Just stating the obvious. “She’s a natural.”

 

Jinsol giggles, hushing when the teacher begins his lecture, but not without tapping her wrist in return.

 

“You should tell her. It’d make her day.”

 

-

 

Sooyoung doesn’t tell her.

 

Not when Jungeun's stupid name keeps bothering her.

 

"You itchy?" Jinsol's half-eaten sandwich stays forgotten on the table, her eyes more focused on staring her hand down. "You've been doing that a lot, lately."

 

She tugs the collar higher and continues scratching through it. Just in case the concealer wears off from all her rubbing, Jinsol won't be able to read it. Turtlenecks are gradually becoming her go-to outfit; which isn’t too bad (she knows she looks good in them), but the itch has certainly gotten worse, now.

 

"Yeah,” she sighs, reaches for her cup of coffee so her hands could be busy with something else. "Maybe I should wash all my things; it's probably a bug or something."

 

Jinsol shrugs, chewing and splattering breadcrumbs over the table.

 

"Kind of reminds me of when I got my soulmate,"

 

She barely catches the coffee in her mouth, swallows burning liquid down before it could spray all over the kitchen – and across Jinsol's face. Sooyoung pounds a fist to her chest, hacking out coughs to clear out the fire in her throat.

 

Words stumble behind her mouth. "I— wait, what?"

 

"What?" Jinsol's mumbling through her munching, "My soulmate's name itched so much I almost wanted to cut my leg off."

 

"...Is that a normal thing?" Sooyoung's not up to date with anything destiny-related. She didn't think any of it was real – just like those horoscopes.

 

"I guess? I don't really know, either. Maybe because I didn’t want it, at first." Jinsol pauses, chugging her water, smearing off the crumbs from her lips. "Which is silly because now I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s amazing.”

 

Curiosity eats her up. “Who is it?”

 

Pink looks good on Jinsol, though not so much the jittery fingers, drumming away on the table, the nerves dropping into the wood – _thunk, thunk, thunk._

 

“...Haseul.”

 

-

 

Sooyoung’s not much of a people-person.

 

She doesn’t know how Jo Haseul does it.

 

“Yes?” She watches the student council president rearrange a stack of papers between her hands, juggles them like she’s dealt with it far too often it’s become second-nature – none of the papers sway out of her grip when she walks. "It looks like something’s bothering you.”

 

Far too approachable and way too observant. Probably why she won the election.

 

Sooyoung combs her hair back, falling in step with her. “...Something like that,”

 

It’s itchy again.

 

“Well,” Haseul smiles when she offers to help carry half of the workload, bundles of white filling up Sooyoung’s arms so she won’t have to scratch at her neck again. “I’m all ears.”

 

They’re not friends. Acquaintances at best.

 

But even then that was pushing it – they’ve only spoken once before because she was the new kid and Haseul had to play her part as the student council president.

 

Awkward’s the one word that fits them better than the shoes on Sooyoung’s feet.

 

She glances as soon as Haseul curls her hair back, short strands of brown flickering across the letters of her roommate’s name – in that signature black ink.

 

Sooyoung gestures to the rim of Haseul’s ear. “Didn’t that bother you?”

 

“...Should it have?” Haseul looks almost lost, confusion palpable by the frown curling her lips, skin creasing between her brows.

 

Sooyoung shrugs.

 

She doesn’t know. It’s not like she’s ever had a soulmate before; it’s all too new and even if she’s gotten the hang of scratching the itch so it’d disappear for longer than five minutes, she isn’t sure if this is normal. She’d like to not scrape her skin off, at least.

 

Haseul's eyes are searching for something – Sooyoung doesn't know exactly what; was there something on her face?

 

“I love studying the subject,” Haseul’s tugging the papers back, freeing Sooyoung’s hands, stalling beside the student council room. “But I’m not that knowledgeable about soulmates. At least, mine had never been itchy enough to want to peel it off like Jinsol’s.”

 

Sooyoung deflates.

 

There’s a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Maybe it’s because I’ve already found mine and we’re, well, _together_. So keep your head up, okay? I’m sure whoever it is will come around.”

 

That’s the thing. She doesn’t want Jungeun to come around. It’s up to _her_ , not some silly roll of the dice designed by the universe.

 

"Did you ever question it?"

 

Haseul tilts her head, strands of hair falling over the curve of her brow.

 

"Question what?"

 

"Why it's Jinsol and not someone else?" Sooyoung's hands find comfort in the pockets of her jeans.

 

She listens to the soft hum spilling between Haseul's lips, watching her readjust the papers in her arms, shifting her weight on her feet.

 

When a student passes by to enter the council room, Haseul's name tagged along with a reminder that a meeting's about to start, Haseul makes it halfway through the doors before twisting back - enough for Sooyoung to spot the crooked smile and happy eyes.

 

"Why would I question the fact that we're meant to be?"

 

The longer she looks at it, the more she thinks that Jinsol's name is oddly fitting against the shell of Haseul's ear.

 

“...Right.” Sooyoung mumbles, watches Haseul wave her away, disappearing behind a crowd of students garnering for her attention as soon as she enters the room.

 

-

 

Panic shoots up her chest too fast that it lodges Jungeun's name in her throat.

 

She’s not thinking, surging forward, reaching out, limbs on autopilot to catch Jungeun before she hits the ground. The only thing on her mind is the repeated mantra of wanting her to be safe -- which is ridiculous because since when did she even care?

 

She'd just arrived at the bus stop, paid no attention to the girl destiny thinks is perfect for her, eyeing Jungeun picking at the edges of her crutches. Boredom painted her face better than the constant frown Jungeun tended to keep on.

 

Sooyoung wasn’t planning on interacting with her, keeping her distance behind her, but as soon as she spotted Jungeun missing a step on the bus, her Converse shoes slapped against concrete to reach her – she didn’t even get a chance to think.

 

Jungeun has her on a leash and she doesn't even know it.

 

“A-Are you okay?!”

 

Fate seems to be desperately trying to set them up -- Sooyoung ignores how her fingers twitch to hold Jungeun closer, as if the grip around her stomach isn’t already more than enough. She crouches to pick up the crutches that have clattered to the floor.

 

Jungeun grunts. “...I’m fine.”

 

Sooyoung knows she should find it rude that Jungeun pushes off her support like she carries some sort of plague, but she sees it as a good thing, taking in Jungeun’s disgust as a convenient opportunity.

 

All the more reason not to fall in love with her.

 

-

 

When the idea slaps Sooyoung in the face like a bucket of ice being thrown over her head, she thinks it’s preposterous how she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

 

Nothing’s better than proving to the universe -- and herself, that fate can be wrong.

 

That spending more time with Jungeun won’t make her head over heels for her; that the world’s spin on her destined lover is nothing but a mistake. At most, they could be friends.

 

“Not sick of walking me home yet?” Arched brow and a teasing smile -- she has to admit, it looks good on Jungeun. A lot of things do.

 

Sooyoung shrugs, fiddling with the edges of her phone in her pocket.

 

“Not yet.”

 

So far it’s been good.

 

Nothing like butterflies have fluttered about in her stomach, or the crushing endless thoughts of Jungeun whenever she isn’t around. Goodnight texts don’t make her heart leap with each new pop-up, and she hasn’t dreamt of them being more than they were, now.

 

But she _does_ notice how the name doesn't itch as much whenever she's with her.

 

Sooyoung stiffens at warmth brushing her wrist; faint and fleeting, Jungeun’s fingers just as soft as the first time, but just like all the others, it lingers on her skin, haunting.

 

Jungeun never says anything so Sooyoung doesn’t, either.

 

“You’re so quiet,” there’s a tug on her sleeve; Jungeun’s warmth seeping through her sweater that Sooyoung could feel the heat. “You’re supposed to be an obnoxious blabbermouth who can’t stop complimenting herself. What’s wrong?”

 

Sometimes she gets the occasional heartbeat picking up rhythm, palms going clammy whenever Jungeun leans in too close, or touches her too often. Sometimes Sooyoung keeps her mouth shut because she’s afraid she’ll stutter instead whenever Jungeun smiles a certain way -- all teeth and crescent moons for eyes that it takes a bit of her breath away.

 

Just like what she’s doing now.

 

“You look better with crutches,”

 

Whatever tension has gripped her sleeve and stolen her heart, it crackles to nothing with Jungeun’s shove to her shoulder, laughter taking Sooyoung’s throat instead of the festering want to just say Jungeun’s name. _Jungeun, Jungeun, Jungeun._

 

“You’re insufferable,”

 

“Isn’t it great?”

 

Jungeun elbows her side, but there’s that smile drawing along her eyes again that it’s hard for Sooyoung to pay attention to the words on her lips.

 

“More like horrible,”

 

For a moment Sooyoung considers the possibility that the universe was right. But only because Jungeun’s smiling eyes makes a convincing argument.

 

-

 

Every so often, maybe once in a blue moon— or two, or _three_ , fear takes up Sooyoung’s heart in the image of jittery fingers and trembling knees.

 

She’s not the type to show it though, so it’s not like anyone else knows.

 

“Try to keep up,” Sooyoung settles for something familiar to calm her nerves -- witty banter with a bit of bite.

 

But damn is it hard when it’s Jungeun.

 

“You sure love to talk about yourself,” streaks of blonde and red fill between Jungeun’s fingers, long strands of brown cascading over her back -- Sooyoung can’t help but stare.

 

They're not friends, just – close acquaintances (it's gotten easier to lie to herself).

 

Duets are a breeze. Hell, she could probably do the routine with her eyes closed, have her body dance to the rhythm, let her limbs take lead to a song her feet knows too well.

 

But it’s with Jungeun.

 

She makes Sooyoung feel like she's doing everything for the first time.

 

“Okay, from the top. Ready?”

 

Sooyoung’s more worried about the name on her neck than having two left feet.

 

She tries not to hold Jungeun too close, makes sure her hair’s in the way so it’d cover the truth -- hide it from the one person who should never see it.

 

She’s gotten enough practice masking the letters with concealer, so technically it should be fine.

 

But it’s hard not to be worried about it when Jungeun’s in her arms for a choreography that shouldn’t be this intimate, Jungeun’s back pressing against her chest that she could feel Jungeun’s heart beat into her bones.

 

She's intoxicating.

 

Sooyoung’s head spins like a wheel overturned when Jungeun shifts -- forgets for a moment that _no_ , she didn't look back for _her_ but for the _dance_ , Jungeun’s breaths mingling across a spot on her neck, exactly where her name had chosen to be.

 

She hopes the concealer doesn't melt with every panting breath Jungeun takes.

 

But with the way it seems like Jungeun's leaning closer, feeling her breathe against her mouth, Sooyoung hopes her legs don't cave first -- even when her head already does, moving to fill in the gap.

 

Sooyoung isn't sure she's thankful for having an audience when they interrupt with cheers and howls and flying shoes.

 

"You were amazing, Unnie!"

 

Jiwoo's a bundle of energy that it's both draining and encouraging, but it's not enough to distract her thoughts from scrambling through memory films for that split-second moment with Jungeun.

 

-

 

Sooyoung doesn't know many languages. Besides her own and basic English, she can't hold a conversation in anything else.

 

So she doesn’t know when she started understanding Jungeun's; how her eyes crinkle when she laughs, loud and unbridled and sometimes too much, to brows arching whenever she's curious, playful, or even confused.

 

Turns out she learns the fastest when it comes to anything Jungeun. Guess there’s some truth to destiny. She couldn’t get away from it at all.

 

There's a finger pressing against her forehead.

 

"Are you even listening to me?"

 

Sooyoung blinks, taking in the image of Jungeun being closer than she's used to, inclined to say yes, but it's hard to put it in words that she's too busy reading the laughter lines on Jungeun's eyes and the soft hue of pink on her cheeks to pay too much attention to anything else.

 

"...Nope," she says, manages to keep from spilling out a piece of her diary _; Too busy just looking at you,_ certainly wouldn’t be a good way to start the day being friends and nothing more. 

 

Jungeun's finger shifts lower, poking her cheek, the pressure lingering that it makes Sooyoung break into a smile.

 

Jungeun has her doing that a lot, lately.

 

"Figures,"

 

It’s troubling how touchy they’ve gotten.

 

"You know me too well," she waves her off so she isn’t tempted to pull Jungeun closer instead, "It's probably not all that interesting anyway."

 

"Then how about _you_ tell me something interesting," Jungeun's teeth peeks through, her smile bewitching -- and the reason she can’t breathe for a second, or two, or _three_. "I bet it's nothing compared to my drama with my neighbor's cat."

 

Sooyoung snorts.

 

There’s a constant storm in her head made up of pictures that aren’t real -- holding hands, silly kisses, wild night-outs, and a cuddle fest in bed sharing a blanket too small just to have an excuse to make up for it in hugs.

 

She has absolutely no idea.

 

"You’re right, I’ve got nothing as interesting as your neighbor’s cat." Sooyoung runs fingers through her hair, leaning back. "Where do I even begin?"

 

She doesn't know when she stopped looking for reasons to not love Jungeun, only to start seeing all the reasons why she should.

 

The thought tastes bitter in her mouth. And way too sweet. She hates the thought of losing to destiny.

 

"I never thought we'd be friends,"

 

Honesty's easier on the tongue when it has nothing to do with the terrifying truth tattooed on her skin. She just didn't expect it'd be something a little too close to the heart.

 

Jungeun reels back, brows furrowed, lips crooked into a mix of a smile and frown -- the utter confusion looks cute on her.

 

"Wait, what?"

 

"I know." Sooyoung puts on smug like a pair of jeans -- effortlessly. "Interesting, right?"

 

Jungeun gapes.

 

She chuckles. "Beats the drama with your neighbor's cat, huh."

 

Sooyoung doesn’t say anything else, bites back _I never thought I'd want more than that, either_ because that’s not what Jungeun needs to hear.

 

She wonders if Jungeun would ever know how much she takes up the spaces in her lungs that there’s usually nothing left for her to actually breathe in.

 

“Come on,” Sooyoung ushers her up, guides by a hand on Jungeun’s back. There’s no way she’d tell her. “Can’t have you missing class when you’re already struggling enough as it is.”

 

 

-

 

She knows the signs. The faster heart rate, the sweaty palms, the stuttering lips, the constant need to see her happy - just the constant thought of _her_. She knows what that means.

 

Sooyoung sighs, scraping a hand down her face, as if it could help scratch off the smile that’s already drawing itself across her lips just from picturing Jungeun for the umpteenth time. _Again_.

 

To think she’s lost to destiny – even worse, she isn’t mad about it.

_(She remembers Jungeun frowning, only to catch herself when the words spill out faster than her head could spin the gears backwards; Sooyoung’s grateful she couldn’t stop it._

_“That’s only because I can’t keep my eyes off of you whenever you—“)_

 

Sooyoung chuckles.

 

Yeah. She isn’t mad at all.

 

“Did you get a tattoo?”

 

If only she knew how angry she’d be that Jungeun was meant for someone else. Sooyoung wouldn’t have bothered letting hope build up in her chest, or even entertain all the ideas on how to tell Jungeun that it was her name on her skin.

 

Jungeun's trembling. “…I don’t want it.”

 

“Don’t want what?”

 

Sooyoung’s eyes widen at the name on Jungeun’s wrist, watches how she tries to rub it off like it’d do anything to remove something so permanent.

 

“…This.”

 

She wonders what Jinsol would say if she ever saw it.

 

Jo Haseul’s meant for more than just one person? Is she actually _that_ perfect?

 

The thought tastes bitter on her tongue. Is that even supposed to happen? Does this mean that even if Jungeun’s meant for her, Jungeun’s supposed to be with someone else?

 

“…Me neither,”

 

Maybe it’s spite, maybe it’s the anger, maybe it’s how unfair destiny got her to fall in love exactly the way it wanted her to that has Sooyoung telling her there’s a name on her skin, too.

 

The shock on Jungeun’s face does little to quell the disappointment in Sooyoung’s chest. She almost considers showing her the letters – how it spells out her name but she’d rather keep that secret to herself.

 

No need to have Jungeun say out loud what destiny’s already telling her – that she’s not in love with her.

 

_("Why would I question the fact that we're meant to be?")_

 

Sooyoung wishes she’d known that just because someone’s name is on your skin, it doesn’t mean they’d have yours on theirs, too.

 

-

 

Jiwoo's the closest thing she'll ever get to being next to the sun.

 

She would have fallen in love with her if Jungeun wasn't already the one in her heart.

 

"U-Unnie!"

 

It never burns to be close to Jiwoo; too soft, too warm, too sweet— so unlike Jungeun.

 

"Yeah?"

 

She's seen her around. Most of the time with Jungeun, other times at choir practice whenever she walks by their room -- Haseul conducting with each flick of her wrists.

 

There hasn't been many reasons to talk to her, before. Their respective interests were different that there wouldn’t be much of a conversation to carry.

 

But Jiwoo suddenly sprung up out of nowhere and Sooyoung couldn’t help but be drawn to her – irresistible, jolly, and a bit overwhelming.

 

“Um,” Jiwoo’s hunched over on her knees. Sooyoung wonders why she’d bother running when she was going to wait for her anyway. “D-Do you mind if we — _hah_ , hold on, let me just, you know. Breathe a little."

 

Sooyoung chuckles. “Sure.”

 

Jiwoo’s grin is beaming; not even dishevelled hair and a crooked posture could hide her away.

 

It’s nice being next to the sun.

 

“Want to hang out again this weekend?” Jiwoo stands upright, tucking strands behind her ear, raising a fist and pairing it with a smile too bright to be threatening. “I’ve gotten better at shooting, I swear.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been spending money just to practice,”

 

Sooyoung laughs when all Jiwoo does is cough like she just choked on a not-so-elusive truth.

 

Her schedule’s free for the most part. She won’t say that she’s kept certain days just to make time for Jungeun (the weekdays are pretty much all booked for her -- even if Jungeun doesn’t know it), but there’s a festering idea that the weekend would be even better if it means spending it with Jungeun.

 

But that would mean having Jungeun every single day and it’s terrifying how much Sooyoung still wants that.

 

“Sure,” she says, going so far as to brush away a strand loitering over Jiwoo’s brow, wondering if she’ll ever have as much courage to do the same to Jungeun. “But I bet you still can’t beat me.”

 

Jiwoo laughs. It’s cute how bright it is.

 

It takes gritted teeth and clenched fists hiding away in the crooks of her pockets just to squeeze out an _“I’m busy,”_ when Jungeun asks for her time on the same days she’s already promised Jiwoo.

 

 

-

 

Just like their last weekend hangout, Sooyoung can't shake the feeling off that it's a date disguised as a get-to-know-each-other-better.

 

She still manages to win at the crane game though, plushy in hand.

 

Jiwoo takes it home because Sooyoung’s not as obsessed over soft, stuffed, and cuddly, penguin toys as she is.

 

It never escapes her how touchy Jiwoo’s been at every hangout they’ve had: all the hugs too long to be just friendly, the hand constantly gripping her arm everywhere they go, the fingers she’d interlace between hers as if Sooyoung wouldn’t notice.

 

Jungeun’s the one in her head whenever it happens.

 

She’s at Jiwoo’s doorstep when her question slithers into Sooyoung’s ears, heavy and loaded with a secret Sooyoung thought she’d been doing great at keeping all to herself.

 

“Is it Jungie?”

 

It takes a frown and wrinkled brows before Sooyoung recognizes the name.

 

“Jungeun?” She watches Jiwoo turn back to her, the penguin plushy not once looking out of place in her arms. “What about her?”

 

Jiwoo tilts her head, squishing her cheek against the toy; her eyes half-shielded by auburn.

 

"Your soulmate," she squeezes the plushy a little tighter, "is she yours?"

 

Sooyoung frowns to hide the surprise festering in her chest.

 

But it looks like that was all Jiwoo needed to know.

 

"It's funny," Jiwoo fiddles with the penguin's arm, a small smile on her lips -- so unlike her usual cheery grin. "...I thought I'd be yours because you're mine."

 

Sooyoung's eyes widen, but Jiwoo shoos her off, says _"Thanks for walking me home,"_ before she's turning around, reaching for the door.

 

She stumbles after her.

 

Jiwoo's name gets caught in her throat -- wanting to call her back, reaching out, but all she manages is grazing Jiwoo's jacket before she's disappearing behind a wooden door, taking her voice along with her.

 

Silence keeps her company all the way home.

 

-

 

Soulmates ruin things.

 

Why it couldn’t be simpler, more straightforward like the traditional ones – seeing color whenever you’re close to them, or just having one name be specific for every person so there wouldn’t be someone left out, Sooyoung has no clue.

 

Guess the universe wanted something different.

 

“Jiwoo, can I talk to you?”

 

It’s gotten harder to reach her. Somehow, she’s always busy – at the music room, or out with other friends, or hiding away to study in the library. Any excuses not to see her, and Sooyoung gets it. She really does.

 

Sooyoung scratches at the bandage on her neck. She’d overdone it last night – still, she can’t help but keep trying, attempt to scrape away the name constantly throbbing in her head.

 

It should’ve been Jiwoo, instead.

 

“U-Unnie?” She’s ducked behind a pile of books that Sooyoung can’t help but chuckle; even if they’re there for her to hide and not to actually read. “What are you doing here?”

 

Sooyoung leans against the chair. “Looking for you,”

 

“…Why?”

 

“I just want to talk,”

 

Jiwoo fiddles with her fringe. “I, um, can’t think of anything to talk about.”

 

“I can think of plenty,” Sooyoung says, settling into the seat across from her. “But if you’re really not up for it, we don’t have to talk at all.”

 

She watches Jiwoo purse her lips, twiddling with the edges of a book she isn’t reading; not when her eyes are busy flitting back and forth between her and the open pages of text sprawled on the table.

 

Sooyoung sighs at a vibration in her pocket; it’s probably Jungeun’s tenth or fifteenth message – she’s not sure anymore – likely still asking where she is. She hasn’t stopped walking her home (she probably wouldn’t ever let that one go – if only so she could hold Jungeun’s hand and pretend it’s in the name of friendship) but with everything else – like having lunch together, or walking her to classes; she’s trying to keep to herself. Not that it ever works.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Jungie?”

 

Jiwoo’s question is innocent enough, but Sooyoung’s not deaf to hear the implications in her voice – and that tinge of green envy.

 

“...How did you know?” Sooyoung fiddles with her collar, tries not to pick at the bandage on her neck. She can't answer Jiwoo's question when it's an obvious yes - in more ways than one. "That it's her. What gave it away?"

 

She's been careful -- too conscious of the name on her neck and too paranoid that Jungeun would see it that she'd gotten used to hiding it away. Sooyoung doesn’t know where she slipped.

 

Jiwoo's smile looks like it wants to break out into a laugh, but her eyes are glossy like she'd rather cry instead. Her hands have gotten tighter around the book, as if just seconds and a teardrop away from ripping the pages out.

 

"...I didn't."

 

Sooyoung winces.

 

Of course. Out of all the clichés to fall for, she drops from the one completely preventable and recited right out of most unimaginative romance novels.

 

She didn't think a tattered heart would look so well on Jiwoo - as if regret's piled up behind her trembling mouth, gaze a glossy finish filled with guilt - and a devastating surrender. Sooyoung hates the look of heartbreak.

 

Had it been about anything else, Sooyoung would've told her not to give up.

 

But Jungeun's all she wants and there's no way she'd lie to Jiwoo and pretend that they had a chance.

 

“Can I see it?”

 

Sooyoung frowns; there’s a certainty to Jiwoo’s question, laced with a resolve and quiet strength that’s almost admirable - and a little masochistic.

 

“...Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” a pause, voice tapering to a whisper, as if to plead. “...Please.”

 

She doesn’t have the heart to say no, so Sooyoung listens.

 

Gripping at the edges of the bandage, she watches Jiwoo stand from her seat to settle beside her as she peels, gaze fixated as if enthralled to see the letters gradually appear behind a flimsy shield.

 

She knows it’s entirely visible when Jiwoo reaches out, gentle fingers tracing familiar slopes and curves that have taken Sooyoung's heart.

 

"It looks beautiful on you," a whisper, Jiwoo's breath mingling across her skin, makes shivers tremble along her bones. "Does she know?"

 

Sooyoung swallows to moisten her throat; Jiwoo's so entranced in spelling out the name on her skin over and over again that every touch has her mouth drying up - constantly reminding her; _Jungeun, Jungeun, Jungeun._

 

It's a stiff _"No,"_ a little breathless and a bit too soft, but Jiwoo's touch has her stunned to a silence; she wonders if this is her torture - or if Jiwoo's intoxicated with their proximity, just like how she's been drunk one too many times being too close with Jungeun.

 

"...I'm jealous,"

 

Sooyoung pretends she doesn't feel nails attempt to scrape away the letters of Jungeun's name.

 

She's tried countless times in front of the mirror to know it doesn't work.

 

"I'm sorry," Sooyoung says, picking at the cuffs of her sleeves, unable to raise her head - can't hold her gaze when Jiwoo looks like that. Like the universe lied to her about happily ever after.

 

She pauses, finger ghosting over Sooyoung’s skin. "...For what?"

 

 _That I came into your life._ "For everything." She chances a glance, spots Jiwoo's eyes filled to the brim, but nothing's spilled yet. "...I just wish I was better for you."

 

But Sooyoung isn't sorry that Jiwoo came into hers.

 

"Careful," Jiwoo's lips break into a shaky grin, blinking hard as if to swallow the tears that threaten to escape. "Keep that up and I might just fall in love with you more."

 

She stops, watching Jiwoo mend her heart on her own, hands letting her go so she could cover her face, wiping tears that have finally fallen. She wishes she could clear them away for her instead.

 

It's when her sniffles grow into muffled sobs behind a shaky hand that has Sooyoung reaching out to cradle her close, Jiwoo's tears painting across the space she knows has Jungeun's name.

 

-

 

Watching Jungeun cry punctured holes in Sooyoung's chest deeper than any knife could.

 

She wanted to kiss them away. So she did.

 

Wherever there were tears, she made sure to clear them away: her cheeks, eyelids - even the corners of her lips.

 

She remembers how Jungeun’s name pulsed, as if to tell her to make sure she was okay. Not that she needed the reminder.

 

“So her soulmate’s Haseul, too.”

 

She’s back at her apartment, watching Jinsol tap fingers against her chin.

 

Sooyoung’s not surprised that it’s already reached Jinsol; Haseul’s her girlfriend, after all. It wasn’t hard to miss how frozen Haseul had been in the hallway. She knew that was what Jungeun had cried about, but whether it was tears because her soulmate had found out, or something else, Sooyoung isn’t sure she wants to know.

 

“Yeah,”

 

Jinsol looks unnervingly calm - too neutral, too poised. It’s a little freaky.

 

And then she giggles. Sooyoung winces - she didn’t think it could get any freakier.

 

“You look funny,” Jinsol’s too amused, waving her hand, pointing a finger at her; it only has Sooyoung feeling wary. “I’m not worried, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“I didn’t ask,”

 

“You didn’t have to.”

 

Sooyoung traces the edges of her coffee cup. “You’re oddly... _okay_ , with this.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She’s leaning back, twirling with the braids in her hair. “Soulmates don’t have to be romantic partners. They can mean anything. Best-friends. Family. Maybe even best-enemies. Almost like a guide; something like ‘hey, look - this person’s going to mean something to you. You just don’t know how, what, when, where, or why, yet.’”

 

Sooyoung blinks.

 

How she hadn’t considered that thought is beyond her. Jinsol looks ecstatic, though. As if proud for having knowledge that she’s unaware of, a smug smile curling across her lips.

 

“All you have to do is decide what the name means to you,” She flicks her hair back, standing up to take a call when her cellphone rings, Haseul’s name (along with three hearts and a bird emoji) blaring bright on her screen. “Let’s just hope Jungeun won’t choose her as a girlfriend, though.”

 

-

 

She wakes up feeling like she’s on fire.

 

It’s a struggle just to move the blankets, wrenching them off because it’s suffocating how hot her skin feels - and how much everything aches.

 

Sooyoung groans at pain constantly throbbing from her neck, her chest, her back, her arms, her legs - as if every expanse of her skin’s been subjected to volcanic heat.

 

Just pushing herself off the bed has her hissing, staggering into her desk from wobbly legs, her notebooks and pens clattering to the floor because she can’t bring her hands up high enough to avoid them.

 

She barely hears Jinsol’s rushing steps and worried lips until she’s reaching out to help her be steady on her feet, Jinsol’s touch searing a shock of pain through her back - it has Sooyoung jolting, gritting her teeth.

 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Jinsol’s trying, feeling her hand hover over her elbow, tentatively wrapping fingers around it. “Here, I’ve got you.”

 

Sooyoung winces at every step she takes just to get back into bed, the mattress not helping to cushion the fire burning across her back once she sinks in.

 

She can’t muster any complaints when Jinsol begins to inspect her.

 

“These look like bruises,” Sooyoung squeezes her eyes shut when Jinsol traces over a spot on her arm, “You didn’t get into a fight last night, did you?”

 

Sooyoung barely manages to scoff before she’s back to curling up in pain.

 

“You didn’t. Got it.” How Jinsol still manages to think she’s cracked up a joke, she doesn’t know, but Sooyoung swears once this blows over, she’ll get her something to actually laugh at. "I've never seen these before. It's almost like a bad rash of chickenpox - but with bruises."

 

Sooyoung huffs. "...I can't believe you've just described exactly how annoying it is." She grunts, shifting to have a better look at Jinsol. "I think I'd prefer it if everything itched instead."

 

Jinsol laughs, breaking away from the concern so etched on her face.

 

"I'll ask Haseul if she knows anything about this,"

 

“I’m more shocked you’re thinking that this is soulmate-related and not a sign that I’m dying from some sort of disease.”

 

Jinsol rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic,”

 

It doesn't take long before she feels the bed rise, Jinsol's steps echoing after her, her muffled _"Seul, there's a problem,"_ drowning to fade as soon as the door shuts.

 

Sooyoung barely manages to turn over to her side so her back isn't screaming in pain anymore when Jinsol's screech pierces into her ears.

 

_"WHAT?!"_

 

She wishes she had the energy to shut her up.

 

Sooyoung can't even flinch when Jinsol throws her door open, the knob slamming hard against the wall (god, it better not be broken) before she's lunging at her, her hands frantically lifting her shirt.

 

Sooyoung yelps at cold fingers prodding her skin. "What the _hell?!_ What are you doing?!"

 

Isn't she in a relationship with Haseul?

 

"It's not like that you dummy." Jinsol's quick to shut her down, as if reading her mind, jittery fingers tracing over each bruise that even if it's fleeting, it's still fiery – and immensely painful. "Seul said it's like a warning sign—"

 

"So I was right? I'm actually dying?"

 

Jinsol slaps her stomach; Sooyoung winces, swallowing a scream. _Ouch_.

 

"I can't believe you're joking about this," she's sighing, her hands still frantic as if searching. "It's about your soulmate, idiot. Each bruise is a spot where your soulmate's been kissed."

 

Sooyoung jolts up, banging her forehead against Jinsol's. They're both recoiling from the impact, Jinsol managing to catch herself before she could tumble off the edge of her bed.

 

Sooyoung groans. She better not have a bruise on her forehead now, too.

 

"Ow! What the _hell?!_ " Jinsol's rubbing her skin, lips curved into a pout. "It's not like you know who your soulmate is anyway, right? What's got your feathers all ruffled up?"

 

Oh. Right, she never told her.

 

Good thing she didn’t bother cleaning off the concealer last night.

 

"...Nothing,"

 

Jinsol's scrutiny has Sooyoung gazing elsewhere. "... _Okay_ , well. Anyway, Haseul said it'll take time to heal, but they'll go away eventually.

 

She doesn't know how to feel about that.

 

Fingers curl around her wrist. "Sooyoung?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Are you okay?"

 

There it is again. Jinsol's slanted eyebrows. They should be illegal with how cute they are - and how much they're compelling her to spill the truth.

 

But the less people know, the less likely it'll reach Jungeun.

 

"...I'm just thinking about how much fun my soulmate must've had," with a Colgate smile, she plays it like it's any other conversation; smooth and light and nothing important. "Considering how it's, you know, _everywhere_."

 

It's comical, except she isn't the one laughing.

 

Jinsol's giggles trail off, patting Sooyoung's knuckles. "There there. You'll have your fun eventually. Maybe you could even pay them back and do the same thing. When you're all better, of course."

 

Jiwoo comes to mind; bruised and battered and just a whole lot of too much - Sooyoung wouldn't do that to her.

 

"Yeah, yeah." She waves her off, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. "Shouldn't you be heading to dance class?"

 

"I should," Jinsol pauses, eyes shifting between the time and her. "But I don't want to leave you alone."

 

"How nice of you,"

 

"No, really. I don't want to leave you alone." She learns how expressive Jinsol is with her hands, movements wide and arching as if to exaggerate her point. "What if you trip and fall or something? You can't even hold yourself up on your own."

 

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. "I can handle it,"

 

Jinsol's yanking her phone out. "Haseul doesn't have anything early in the morning, so maybe she could—"

 

"It's okay, really." Sooyoung grips her hand, pauses fingers that hover over on speed-dial. She wonders if Haseul has Jinsol on 1, too. "I'm fine. It's not so bad anymore, see?"

 

She makes a show to stand, bites back a groan so Jinsol won't know she's pretending just so she could get her to leave. She wants to be alone.

 

It takes a painful walk (masked with a confident stride she’s too well-known for) to the living room before Jinsol's finally convinced, each step plagued with a grimace she swallows into a smile.

 

“Fine. But I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” Jinsol’s by the door, biting her lip, still reluctant. “Take it easy and don’t move so much.”

 

Sooyoung shoos her off with _“Sure, whatever,”_ sinking slowly into the cushion of their couch because the bed’s too far and she’s not going to bother stumbling back when it’s less painful to sit up than it is to lie down.

 

When silence is all she hears, Sooyoung mulls over the spots on her skin - and what they really mean.

 

One, her skin is marred up because Jungeun's had some nightly fun, and two, her body kept track in the form of bruising hickeys just to tell her that.

 

Sooyoung ignores the inkling truth that Jungeun should therefore have them, too.

 

-

 

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt._

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

 

Sooyoung huffs, brushing her hair back because she had just finished making lunch. Despite the only reason she’s home is because she’s too bruised up to go anywhere, it’s nice to have the day to herself.

 

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt._

But damn, Jinsol’s clearly insistent in taking that away from her.

 

Sooyoung groans, both at the hassle of getting up from her chair when she had just placed her food down, and the jolt of pain threading through her legs because Jungeun clearly liked getting bitten there.

 

“I get that you like pressing the buzzer, but _seriously_ ,” she rests a hand against the door, pausing to catch her breath. A sigh breezes between her lips when it goes again – _bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt._ “Didn’t I already tell you to stop forgetting your keys?” Fingers grip the knob, twisting. “I swear, just because I’m the nicest roommate you’ll _ever_ have, it doesn’t mean I’m going to keep _letting_ you—”

 

She yanks the door open, expecting to see Jinsol and her sheepish pout and her cute-slanted-eyebrows, only to find her heart just shy away from pressing the buzzer, again; looking ethereal and a little too breathtaking. Her beauty is scathing.

 

Sooyoung’s voice tapers off, throat tightening up. “— Back in.”

 

Jungeun tucks a strand behind her ear, lips curving into a nervous smile – a savory red with more scarlet hues than the highlights in her hair. It’s terrifying how much she craves a taste.

 

“…Hey,”

 

Sooyoung wants to run away.


	4. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lungs burn for rest, throat parched and nose sore because breathing’s gotten a lot more difficult when sprinting is priority and nothing else.

_Sooyoung._

 

Lungs burn for rest, throat parched and nose sore because breathing’s gotten a lot more difficult when sprinting is priority and nothing else.

 

_Sooyoung._

 

Her legs feel like they’ll fall off, trembling and exhausted more than any of the times she's spent late nights practicing for perfection on the dance floor.

 

_Sooyoung._

 

“Wait!”

 

Jungeun stumbles to pause, shoes skidding against pavement. She twists to find Jiwoo buckled over, clutching her knees and huffing for breaths that are as labored as her own.

 

She was following her?

 

“D-Do you even know where she lives?”

 

“I—” she doesn't, now that she's paused to think. “...No.”

 

Jiwoo combs her hair back, ushering with a nod of her head, a huffed laugh leaving her throat.

 

“Come on, it's this way.”

 

Jungeun's not used to seeing Jiwoo's back, falling in step a few paces behind. Not when they've always preferred to be next to each other instead.

 

“Oh, um, thanks.”

 

She knows where Sooyoung lives?

 

“We've hung out a few times.” Jiwoo shrugs, as if she heard the thoughts in her head. “Do you know why she didn't make it to class today?”

 

There's something in the way Jiwoo's shoulders tense – how her ears perk up, back rigid to a stand as soon as she answers her that bothers Jungeun.

 

“Jinsol unnie said she didn't feel well,” Jungeun says; she's only ever heard of these occurrences in stories and hearsay; she never thought they could be true. “That bruises just appeared out of nowhere…”

 

She knows why – for the most part. If her hunch was right.

 

There's a sharpness to Jiwoo's voice.

 

“Where were you last night?”

 

Jungeun halts, her jaw falling open, closing it just as Jiwoo spins to face her; there's a burning strength in her eyes that has Jungeun almost flinching.

 

Jiwoo wouldn't be asking unless—

 

“Last night?”

 

The memory is vivid – the ghost touches of fingers and lips scraping and scathing along her skin as if it could get any deeper to her heart. But illusions could only go so far.

 

Sooyoung stayed in her head even when morning came and all that was left was an empty spot in her bed.

 

“I was at home,”

 

Jiwoo's gripping the inside of her elbow; black edges of Sooyoung's name peeking between her fingers.

 

“Alone?”

 

“Does it even matter?”

 

She knows it matters. The fact that Jiwoo's interrogating her about it practically confirms her suspicion - and wish.

 

That she might actually be _Sooyoung's—_

 

“Of course it does!” Jiwoo steps forward, hands clenched into fists - quaking as if her emotions are bleeding into her fingers; her voice tapers to a whisper. “...You don't know how lucky you are.”

 

“Lucky?” Jungeun scoffs, indignant; she's far from it. “ _You're_ the one with her name.”

 

Funny how quick she was to associate luck with Sooyoung.

 

She still remembers how much it ached to see destiny's fire spell out letters for someone else.

 

“But _you're_ the one she—!” Jiwoo stops, swallowing down whatever's left in her mouth, turning around so all she sees is her back. “Never mind. Forget it.”

 

She’s already walking off; Jungeun’s not used to jogging to catch up - falling behind wasn’t a concept they ever had to deal with.

 

Jiwoo feels a lot farther than she already is.

 

Jungeun grips her arm.

 

“Wait, you can’t just start something and then—”

 

“I wish she was never mine,” a soft laugh, resigned. “But it's always been that way, hasn't it?”

 

“Jiwoo—”

 

She nearly crashes into her, straightening up when Jiwoo spins to face her, a smile so small that Jungeun knows she would’ve missed it if she wasn’t watching.

 

Jiwoo doesn’t want Sooyoung? Since when?

 

“We’re here.” Jungeun looks up, staring at stone steps, Jiwoo shifting around her. “I should go. Room 9; you won’t miss it.”

 

“Jiwoo,”

 

Pearly whites and misty eyes halt her tongue - small drops of tears that stain down her cheeks has Jungeun's words fading off her lips.

 

Jiwoo leaves just like that; a whirlwind of sharp truths and double conversations that Jungeun knows is long overdue. They haven’t talked about anything deeper than extra pages of homework, lately.

 

That needs to change.

 

Jungeun keeps note to spend an entire day just for her; along with boxes of tissues and tubs of ice cream - and plenty of Disney movies to laugh and sleep to.

 

-

 

She can do this.

 

She can do this.

 

She can _do_ this.

 

“...Hey,”

 

Jungeun doesn't miss how Sooyoung's jaw clenches, as if hearing her voice has her gritting teeth. She doesn't need to see fists and white knuckles to know it was true.

 

She can’t do this.

 

“...I never gave you my address.”

 

Jungeun shuffles her feet, fingers twiddling behind her back, afraid that all her trembling will give away the nerves that has swallowed her up.

 

“Well, yeah, you didn't.” Her gaze drapes over to Sooyoung's hand tightened around the knob, knuckles still pale. “I, um, Jiwoo told me.”

 

Sooyoung wears a mask better than she ever could. The wince paired with a swinging door is the only crack Sooyoung gives.

 

Jungeun shoots forward.

 

“Wait!” She's thankful her reflex hasn't dulled the slightest under Sooyoung's scrutiny. “I just - I came to check up on you. You weren't at practice.”

 

The door tries to inch to a close, feeling the pressure push against her hand. She ignores the fact that Sooyoung’s attempting to keep her out.

 

“Thanks, but I'm fine.”

 

Jungeun won’t let her.

 

“Are you sure? I mean, I can stay and—”

 

“I said I'm fine,” Jungeun didn't know words could be scathing enough to puncture her lungs, yank out air until there was none. “Just go. I know you have class.”

 

“But I want to—”

 

“...Just _leave_.”

 

It's scary how loud it was to be that quiet, that it's still ringing in Jungeun's ears like a gunshot to the heart when it was nothing more than a fleeting whisper.

 

Jungeun peeks at the sliver of alabaster peering beneath Sooyoung's drooping collar, wishing it'd fall a little lower just so she could see if it mirrors her own skin.

 

“Why can't I stay?”

 

Presumptuous of her to immediately assume she's the reason Sooyoung's like this; it could've easily been because of someone else – Jiwoo or Jinsol. Maybe even Haseul.

 

She needs to make sure.

 

“Since when were you this persistent?”

 

“Since you offered to walk me home and never stopped,” Jungeun steps forward, closer so she isn't as far from her as she feels. “I didn't need it, you know.”

 

Sooyoung frowns, eyes flickering like hurt was about to take its place, confusion palpable by the drop in her shoulders; Jungeun almost grins at how easy it is to see Sooyoung reeling back memory films in her head.

 

“Then why didn't you—”

 

“Say no and miss out on getting to know the girl everyone's supposedly - and _dumbly_ , in love with?” Jungeun tries her luck, nudges Sooyoung's elbow in hopes to bring out a smile. “Not a chance.”

 

To her credit, she spots white peeking between Sooyoung's lips.

 

“Smooth,”

 

“Got it from you.”

 

Sooyoung hums, scratching at her neck; a smudge scraping against her fingers, tinges of black font peeling behind what Jungeun realizes is makeup.

 

Is that a—

 

“Except you,”

 

Jungeun blinks, gaze drifting from the edges of a 'K'.

 

“What?”

 

Guess Jinsol and Haseul really aren't the ones on her skin.

 

“Everyone except you.”

 

But there's still Jiwoo.

 

She watches Sooyoung turn away towards the kitchen, settling down in front of a plate looking fresh off the stove.

 

Jungeun takes it as a silent invitation to let herself in, shutting the door behind her and thinking about how _everyone-except-you_ is no longer true.

 

She needs to know.

 

“Is it me?”

 

Sooyoung gives nothing away; no shaking fist, clenching jaw, or even a flinch.

 

Jungeun tries again.

 

“...Is it me?” A tentative step forward, “Is it my name on your—”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

She flinches at the venom swirling on Sooyoung's tongue; vehement and overwhelming - like there wasn't room for anything else. And to think she had said the same thing to Jiwoo.

 

Jungeun pretends she doesn't feel her knees tremble.

 

“...Do you hate that it's me?” Gritted teeth and a hurt heart are barely enough to get the words out. “Were you hoping for someone else?”

 

Silence crawls into her ears. Sooyoung's gaze stays bolted to her food; fingers loosely curled around her fork. It doesn't move.

 

Jungeun knows the quiet is just a polite way of saying ‘Yes’.

 

“Because I did.” Sooyoung looks up as if she’s finally seeing her; Jungeun hopes her legs don't give like how her lungs cave to get the words out. Not yet. “I never thought I’d want you until I got someone else. Haseul’s great, it’s just...”

 

_She’s not you._

 

A chair screeches against wood.

 

It takes a swallow and a hard stare at the beige calendar on the refrigerator to not flinch with every one of Sooyoung's footfalls.

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

Jungeun recoils, gaze falling back to find a flame swirling in brown eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“Last night.” Sooyoung's stepping closer, enough that all it'd take is a foot forward and Jungeun could fall right into her. “Was it the kisses or the bites that made you stay?”

 

Lips impossibly soft and teeth digging into her skin had her undone more times than there were numbers on a clock, but it wasn't because she was craving to be touched.

 

She could easily do that herself.

 

“It was you.”

 

Sooyoung frowns, brows arched and lips pulled down in a way that a stranger could never imitate; how theirs was a little too low, a tad too stiff, a bit too small.

 

But it was enough.

 

“She was the closest I got to pretending I had you.”

 

It’s cute; how Sooyoung’s mouth fumbles between opening and closing. Jungeun considers helping her out, lift her chin up so she wouldn’t have to look like some fish that got flung out of water.

 

But her heart’s been too open that it’s paralyzing to know she has said her secret aloud; she’s afraid to move in silence drenched with her feelings and Sooyoung’s rigid posture has Jungeun equally frozen.

 

She wants to take it all back.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

 

There’s something in the way Sooyoung reaches for her hand that has Jungeun holding in her breath; it’s nothing special - they’ve done this too often to keep count, how familiar it feels to have her warmth cradle her wrist, her thumb drawing circles on her skin.

 

But it’s different when Sooyoung’s unclasping the watch that hides Haseul’s name so her lips could replace it instead.

 

“...Sooyoung?”

 

Her heart burns to beat faster; scorching with every kissed syllable Sooyoung mutters into her skin.

 

“I didn't want you, either.” Shivers tremor along Jungeun's arm, entranced by the way Sooyoung's breath ghosts each letter. “But I hated it more that you didn’t have me.”

 

Giggles bubble in her throat, happiness surging beneath her chest, coiling up her lungs that it’s somehow easier to breathe; even when her pulse skips every time Sooyoung presses another kiss, as if to erase the name meant to be permanent on her wrist.

 

Jungeun finds courage in the smile Sooyoung paints against her skin.

 

“No wonder you bought me a watch,”

 

Sooyoung scoffs, leaning back so Jungeun can catch her rolling her eyes.

 

“Obviously.”

 

She hasn’t let her go, fingers gentle and warm.

 

“...Can I see it?”

 

Jungeun braves a hand against Sooyoung’s cheek, at first fleeting, pressing closer when Sooyoung doesn’t flinch at her touch.

 

Sooyoung’s ears take on a hint of pink.

 

“Do you have to?”

 

Chuckles tickle her throat. “Are you embarrassed?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sooyoung turns her head, the curves of a ‘K’ peeking along her neck. “...It’s you.”

 

Jungeun’s fingers glide down her jaw, over the slopes and edges that make up perfection, to the start of a name that had been so elusive.

 

Her heart aches at the thought of Sooyoung being so adamant to hide her away.

 

“It must’ve hurt,” Jungeun rubs at the foundation layered across it, tracing the lines of faded pink undoubtedly scarred by nails that were desperate to remove it. “You really didn’t want me, huh.”

 

“Yeah,” Sooyoung’s mute apologies are easy to hear, how she grips her wrist, pressing warmth against her skin. “Yeah, I didn’t.”

 

Jungeun chuckles.

 

“That’s too bad.” It’s surreal to see her name— _Kim Jungeun,_ ink as dark as the first day she saw Haseul’s on her wrist, crisp and clean as if Sooyoung’s nails hadn’t tried to scratch it off at all. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

 

Sooyoung laughs.

 

“I guess so.”

 

Jungeun wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

“Why didn't you tell me?” She traces her name again and again, hypnotized by the ink so embedded on her heart's skin. “Why didn't you tell me it was me?”

 

Scrunched nose and furrowed brows greet her question; along with a frown embedded with hesitation, eyes darting to something else across the room.

 

“How could I? You didn’t even want to look at Haseul’s name; you looked like you’d run away from your own hand if you could.” Sooyoung pauses, sighing. “If I said it was you, you would've probably—”

 

Jungeun leans in, shuts her up because she’s heard more than enough, muttering against lips she's been dreaming to taste, hoping her words melt into Sooyoung's mouth like a flavor she'll never forget so Sooyoung knows this isn't meant to be a mistake.

 

“...I would've probably kissed you sooner,” Jungeun grins against her, “idiot.”

 

She pulls back just enough to watch Sooyoung blink, shock written on her face it's almost hard not to laugh at it.

 

Jungeun chuckles at Sooyoung's shaky breath, as if she’d stolen all the air in her lungs.

 

“Not soon enough, clearly.”

 

Giggles mix in for another taste.

 

“Idiot,” she mutters between chaste kisses, smiling when all she hears is Sooyoung’s whines of confusion. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

 

“I hope—” Sooyoung manages to squeeze in between pecks, “—that you can come up with a hotter nickname for me—” Jungeun laughs, tickled by Sooyoung’s words vibrating against her lips. “—than ‘idiot’. Or else we need to talk.”

 

Typical.

 

“...Idiot,” she says, a little breathless, a little lightheaded, and a little too pleased with herself; Sooyoung looks flawless when she's pink and a tad too flustered. “Why am I not surprised?”

 

Sooyoung's grin feels gentle and inviting.

 

“...Keep this up and we'll probably lose count.”

 

Jungeun leans up, stealing another.

 

“Yeah,” and another, “Probably.”

 

Sooyoung’s laughter is divine, paired with gentle arms curling comfort around her, tugging Jungeun closer. They haven’t been this intimate before – more satisfied with fleeting moments of holding hands and hugs that go a minute longer. She wonders how she’s managed to survive without this.

 

When Sooyoung winces, worry swarms Jungeun's hands, frantic to search for the cause.

 

“...From now on, please don't go getting kisses from someone else.” Sooyoung says, more soft than sharp, chuckles easing from her mouth. “Or at least, if you do, don't get kissed on the back; lying down’s a bit of a pain.”

 

She can't bring herself to laugh with her.

 

Jungeun's promising apologies in kisses and whispered _“sorry's”,_ reaching up to hold her better, hoping it gets across that she won't be looking for anyone else.

 

Her thumb massages the space just beneath Sooyoung's ear, fingers scratching gently at the little hairs on the back of her neck.

 

Sooyoung's soft sigh has Jungeun rising on her toes.

 

“Will you promise me something?” Jungeun asks, squeezes between a breathless kiss and a trembling grip to hold Sooyoung tighter.

 

“For you? Maybe, maybe not.” Sooyoung's playful grin has Jungeun pinching her arm. “Ow! _Really?_ ” She laughs, rolling her eyes at Sooyoung’s pout. “Fine. Sure. What is it?”

 

Jungeun shifts, kissing the expanse of skin that houses her name.

 

“Don't hide me away, anymore.”

 

She hopes Sooyoung won't ever have to think of her as a mistake again.

 

-

 

“So it was Jungeun?” Jinsol’s pout should be banned; it’s not supposed to be making her feel like an asshole of a roommate. “Why didn't you tell me?”

 

It’s frightening how well Jinsol manages to make guilt spout from the pit of her stomach, churn her insides and eat away at her chest, heart aching for a truth she should’ve said instead of tucking it away for herself.

 

“I just— I didn't want anyone to know,” Sooyoung slumps back in her seat, raking fingers through her hair. “Never been a fan of soulmates, anyway.”

 

“How about now?”

 

Haseul comes to mind; perfect enough that destiny figured she was fit for two people. Sooyoung still doesn’t know how to feel about that. Maybe she’s jealous - it’s hard not to be when Haseul’s the one written on Jungeun’s skin; a spot forever reserved for her alone.

 

Guess she’ll just have to make up her own space on Jungeun everywhere else.

 

“Still a no.”

 

Jinsol hums, tracing the rim of her coffee mug.

 

“I get it,” she sighs, more dreamy than exhausted. “Haseul was pretty convincing when I told her I wanted nothing to do with her.”

 

“What did she do?”

 

Sooyoung watches her shift forward, elbow on the desk, cheek in her palm; a lopsided smile greets her way.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“How was that convincing?”

 

“Because she didn’t have to do anything,” blonde tresses cascade over her shoulder, falling like liquid gold when she curls a few behind her ear. “And I still wanted her. Destiny, or not.”

 

Sooyoung understands. They’re almost eerily similar; how they’ve ended up being drawn in towards the same thing they’ve been trying to run away from in the first place.

 

“I hope Haseul knows how lucky she is to have you,” she bumps her elbow, wonders if Jinsol’s smiling eyes have a way of making people soft. “You’re pretty cool.”

 

Jinsol nudges her back, giggling.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Roomie.”

 

-

 

“Really? Tangled, again?”

 

“Of course!” Jiwoo munches between handfuls of popcorn, patting the makeshift seat of blankets and pillows beside her. “I mean, come on, Jungie. A frying pan. You can’t tell me that’s not brilliant.”

 

Jungeun laughs, slipping her arms out of her jacket.

 

“That’s it?”

 

“And the songs!” A pause, the sound of crunching echoing into her ears. “Plus the glowing hair.”

 

She chuckles, plopping down next to her and taking a handful of fluffy-salty white.

 

“Whatever you say, Jiwoo.”

 

It took a week before Jungeun managed to schedule a night for just the two of them; something she sorely missed and never noticed they were having too little of, until Jiwoo spoke of secrets Jungeun didn’t think she had.

_(“I wish she was never mine, but it’s always been that way, hasn’t it?”)_

 

She’s just not sure how to go about it.

 

Should she be upfront? Get straight to the point and hope that Jiwoo would be open enough to let her listen? Or be subtle? Tip-toe around the problem and somehow coax her into spilling it all out in the middle of a movie and a bowl of salty junk food?

 

“...I knew,” Jiwoo fiddles with the popcorn in her hand, halts every thought running through her mind. “I knew she had you.”

 

Out of all the scenarios Jungeun conjured up in her head on the way here, Jiwoo spilling a brutal truth without prompt wasn't part of her list of possibilities.

 

The air shifts, more awkward than cozy, and it doesn't help that Rapunzel's singing about being free.

 

“How…?”

 

“A feeling,” she pauses, “and then she told me.”

 

“She told you?”

 

“By accident,” Jiwoo scratches her head, a weak smile painting her lips. “But yeah, we talked.”

 

Jungeun wonders how much more she doesn't know.

 

Her mouth opens but nothing comes out; there's too many words jumbled in her head, chaotic and out of order that there wouldn't be anything sensible on her tongue.

 

Jiwoo picks at the corner of her couch.

 

“...I didn’t want it to be true; that it was you.” Jungeun makes sure to keep quiet; Jiwoo's never been the type to talk about herself; no matter how much she could talk, it was always about something else. She won’t ruin it. “It helped that she didn’t want it, either. She said it so often, you know? How much she hated it.”

 

Jungeun tries not to wince; it's a truth she already knows, yet it doesn't get any easier to hear.

 

To think she was the one Sooyoung tried so desperately to get rid of; how often she pretended that it didn't exist - it's still hard to swallow.

 

“It felt like I had a chance - that she could look my way.” Jiwoo sighs, slumping back. “Just once. I wanted her to look at me.”

 

Jungeun knows she should say something; but she feels it'd be out of place - and rude to interrupt.

 

Jiwoo chuckles, tilting her head at her, auburn falling over her shoulder.

 

“But all she saw was you,” she didn't think a smile could look so heartbreaking. “And I hated it.”

 

Jungeun expected something else; more disastrous and cold. Maybe have the bowl of popcorn flung over the edges of Jiwoo's fingers, decorate the floor in specks of white and shaking fury.

 

She expected to help clean up afterwards, sweep away tears and bits of salty white, mend a broken heart with a hug and a new bag of popcorn.

 

But Jiwoo found courage at the bottom of her bowl instead.

 

“Jiwoo…”

 

She looks good in it.

 

“But I'd hate it more if it had been anyone else,” she shrugs, leaning her head back against the sofa, toothy-white smile painting her lips. “No one fits better than you.”

 

Jungeun yanks her in for a hug that carries more words than she could ever say, crumples Jiwoo's sweater in fists that tremor for all the things she's missed out on - and for all the times she wasn't there for her.

 

Choked apologies dance along her tongue; none of them come out coherent, stumbling over Jiwoo's name and _“sorry”_ all at once.

 

“Hey, don't go apologizing now.” Jiwoo laughs, patting her back. “You shouldn't be sorry that she chose you.”

 

“But I—”

 

“No 'buts', okay?” A pause, “Then again, I guess you've got that part down too, huh.”

 

Jungeun pinches her, smiling even when she knows Jiwoo's poking fun at her; her laughter airy and light.

 

She holds her tighter.

 

“I love you,”

 

Jiwoo's giggles tickle her ear.

 

“Love you too, Jungie.”

 

-

 

She wonders if she’s the only one that feels electricity surge across the air whenever they touch, hold a stare for a little too long, clasp hands together just a tad bit tighter – the feeling nestles in Jungeun’s chest, warm and cozy and _loud._

 

Sooyoung’s smiling eyes pulls her in every time, wrapping her in hugs that are almost as intimate as the kisses that go deeper, prolonging evening dates that should’ve already ended at the doorstep so they wouldn’t have to say _“goodnight”_ for another minute or two – or three, or five.

 

Sometimes the invitation for more tumbles across Jungeun’s tongue, bouncing behind her teeth, trembling to come out; breathy whispers of _“see you tomorrow”_ and _“just a little longer”_ don’t satiate the heat rising in her stomach, boiling in her chest – it’s getting to be too much, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before her knees give out, skin begging to be touched.

 

Like now.

 

“I should go,” Sooyoung’s pulling away, but not without chasing her lips for another quick kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

But Jungeun doesn’t want it to be just tomorrow – like all the other tomorrows they’ve already had; not when she could keep her for tonight, have their time together bleed into another day, share mornings in bed with someone who means too much for her to ever let go.

 

“Could you stay?”

 

She feels Sooyoung’s fingers scratch at the back of her neck, how it makes Jungeun sigh into her arms, clutching her jacket tighter.

 

Her thumb draws warmth across Jungeun’s cheek.

 

“Only if you want me to,”

 

“I do,”

 

Sooyoung’s smile feels hot against her lips.

 

She takes it as a yes, yanking Sooyoung’s collar to tug her through the door, letting go to juggle for the keys. Jungeun hisses when it’s taking seconds too long just to find the right one when she could just be using all that time to be kissing Sooyoung instead.

 

Her laughter’s delightful to hear for the most part – but it’s also just as annoying when Jungeun knows Sooyoung’s enjoying her struggle a little too much, her chuckles breezing against her ear; it doesn’t help that Sooyoung’s pressed up against her back, seemingly satisfied with just holding her and watching her stumble over something as simple as opening her own door.

 

She blows a few strands out of her face.

 

“You could at least help me, you know.”

 

Sooyoung’s giggles bleed warmth into her neck.

 

“I think I’m good.”

 

“On second thought, you should just go home.”

 

Jungeun swears she could feel Sooyoung roll her eyes behind her, her fingers hovering over her own, steadying her hand. The key finally slips in through the slot.

 

“So, still want me to go?”

 

Jungeun hates how well smug looks on Sooyoung; almost as insatiable as the turtleneck she’s got on.

 

She doesn’t entertain her with a response, more keen on exploring her home with Sooyoung and getting to know her past the layers of clothing that cover her up.

 

“Not even going to bother touring me around?”

 

Sooyoung says between scathing kisses and bumping into furniture in the dark; it’s a little funny how they coordinate through the living room – feeling out for both a surface to guide them through and the spaces on each other they haven’t gotten to touch.

 

They nearly knock over her vase – a present from her parents – if not for Sooyoung’s quick hands; though Jungeun’s not sure her father would like it very much if he knew it was only because her fingers were already finished undoing the belt on her jeans.

 

Sooyoung throws it somewhere behind her, along with the jacket she’s skillfully maneuvered out of Jungeun’s arms (the lack of resistance has Jungeun a little flustered), hearing them thud against carpet. Jungeun has mixed feelings about that; she wonders just how much of her things are going to be strewn about on the floor – and whether she should wake up earlier to clean it all up, place them in the laundry basket and—

 

“Ow!”

 

Jungeun giggles when she hears Sooyoung hiss, helps her rub her head that had bumped into a particularly low kitchen light.

 

Oops. She’s never had to worry about that.

 

“I think you’ve seen more than enough of the place. Don’t you?”

 

“…Yeah.”

 

Her room’s neat and tidy – though with the way they fall into her bed, crumpling the sheets with tangled limbs and eager hands, Jungeun knows it’s going to be a mess in the morning.

 

She’s counting on it.

 

“Let me know if anything hurts, okay?”

 

Jungeun doubts anything will, but she nods, hums her _“okay,”_ so there won’t be concern etched into pretty brown eyes – she doesn’t want worry to be anywhere near them tonight.

 

It’s nothing like she’s dreamed about – not even close to the show a stranger had put on for her. Sooyoung’s infinitely better – and that shouldn’t be possible.

 

Her touches and kisses are softer, warmer, steadier, but also blazing; as if leaving marks of fire along her skin, burning into her bones, seeping into her chest – her heart drums louder in her ears. It’s almost as deafening as the zipper that slides down her jeans.

 

Shivers tingle along the spots Sooyoung traces, how she follows the waistband of Jungeun’s underwear, as if memorizing the lines on a map. It’s too much to take in at once; teeth nibbling at her ear while fingers explore the expanse of her stomach.

 

The paths feel familiar, though it’s only when Sooyoung settles on curves and edges, leaving lingering kisses on the spaces a stranger had left her once before, that Jungeun realizes what she’s doing.

 

It doesn’t help that heat begins to pool between her legs, arousal simmering beneath her skin.

 

She cradles Sooyoung’s face to pull her down for a longer taste, breathes in apple and cinnamon rolls they shared over their nineteenth date. The memory is vivid; clinking of plates and chatter whirl into her head, soft jazz and topaz lighting matching Sooyoung’s smooth voice and alabaster skin.

 

_“You’re amazing; I hope you know that.”_

When Sooyoung’s hand dips lower, settling between her thighs and into soft heat, Jungeun’s breath hitches, clutching tighter. She briefly wonders if her nails dig deep enough to bruise pleasure into Sooyoung’s skin, leave marks for every slow dance her hips make against Sooyoung’s fingers.

 

When she comes, arching up and clawing bliss down her back, she hopes Sooyoung knows she’s just as amazing, too.

 

-

 

Sooyoung’s not used to running into her – _alone_.

 

Rarely does it happen; they share the same group of friends, so it wasn’t like they needed to spend any other moment in between for just two.

 

At least, not anymore.

 

“I heard you had fun last night.”

 

It's Jiwoo.

 

Sooyoung springs up, almost topples over her coffee before catching her cup mid-fall; her papers wouldn't have appreciated it if she hadn't.

 

Exams are coming up and she hasn't spent much time anywhere else besides the library (with occasional spontaneous dates with Jungeun), so it's not like she expected company other than her piles of textbooks and notes.

 

Jiwoo looks sheepish.

 

“Sorry,”

 

“It's okay,” she organizes the papers scattered across the table, ushering Jiwoo with a nod of her head for the spot next to her. “And what do you mean by 'fun last night'?”

 

“Really?” Jiwoo's brows scrunch up, settling beside her. “Was it that terrible that you forgot it even happened?”

 

Sooyoung mumbles behind her cup.

 

“Forgot what?”

 

“The sex.”

 

Sooyoung barely manages to down her coffee before she's coughing it out, stumbling to catch her drink again, bits of dark liquid spilling over her fingers. She yelps at the heat, muttering curses, placing it down fast so she could grab napkins instead.

 

Jiwoo giggles a string of apologies, her _“Sorry!”_ popping in between choked bouts of laughter and helping her wipe off her drink from her skin.

 

“Did she tell you?”

 

“What, that you two had sex? Nope.” Jiwoo chuckles, tapering to a softer sigh, her hand pausing at the corner of Sooyoung's lips. “We're best friends. She didn't have to.”

 

Oh. Right.

 

“Well…” Sooyoung clears her throat, “...yeah, we did.”

 

“I'm happy for you,” a pause, “and of course, for Jungie, too.”

 

Silence coats them after, Jiwoo's hands withdrawing from her face to rub off whatever's left on her fingers.

 

It's only when Sooyoung thinks of all the kisses she's shared with Jungeun last night that she jolts back, startled at the realization of what it'd cost for her to be with someone else when she's written to be Jiwoo's instead.

 

Jiwoo jumps. “U-Unnie?”

 

Images of Jiwoo waking up with bruising evidence of her time with Jungeun has Sooyoung frantic for apologies.

 

“I'm…” Sooyoung springs forward, gaze scouring for marks on clear skin. “...sorry?”

 

But there's nothing.

 

Jiwoo giggles.

 

“...I'm okay, Unnie.” She shuffles, teetering her balance between her feet. “Those don't show up unless your soulmate was thinking about you while they…” Her voice tapers to a whisper. “...well, you know.”

 

So that was how it works.

 

Sooyoung almost recoils. She doesn't know how to feel about not seeing Jiwoo without any bruising reminder of last night.

 

She didn't spare a second thinking of anyone else but Jungeun — and it _shows._

 

Apologies tremble across her tongue again, eager to slip out.

 

Jiwoo smiles, taking her hand, rubbing circles along her wrist.

 

“At least I didn’t have to wake up feeling sore, right?” Her thumb pauses, pearly whites beaming and bright. “But really. I'm glad that you only thought about her, because she doesn’t really stop thinking about you, either.” She halts, throwing a playful wink. “But I'm sure you knew that already.”

 

Sooyoung reddens. She remembers too vividly the marks on her skin when Jungeun had been with someone else.

 

“Are you feeling better?”

 

Her gaze is fixated on her neck; Sooyoung can't tell if she's staring at the fading reflection of a bruise Jungeun got from someone who wasn’t her, the hickey Jungeun had promised her last night, or the name tattooed by the universe.

 

“Yeah,” she coughs into a hand, ears going warm from the concern etched across Jiwoo's eyes. “Thanks. And you? What have you been up to?”

 

They curl into crescent moons, a smile breaking open at the corners of her mouth.

 

“I've gotten a lot better at the shooting game,” she sways on the balls of her feet, a Cheshire grin lighting up her face. “I bet you won't beat me this time.”

 

It's not an invitation for something more; Jiwoo's not looking at her with expectations to be anything else than friends.

 

Sooyoung arches a brow.

 

“...Saturday?”

 

Jiwoo giggles. “You're on.”

 

She watches Jiwoo turn away, pass her a small wave before Sooyoung reaches out, catching her wrist. It’s still on her mind, even when she knows what Jiwoo will say.

 

“Unnie?”

 

“Jiwoo,” Sooyoung lets go, fiddles with the insides of her pockets, gaze lowering to a spot on the floor. “I’m sorry, again. For everything.”

 

Jiwoo tilts her head, watches how her hands twiddle with the edges of her sleeves.

 

She’s sorry for a lot of things; there’s too many that she doesn’t know where to begin and where it should end.

 

But she wants to start.

 

“Unnie, it’s fine. Come on.” There’s a tug on her sleeve, but it only picks at her heart; head heavy with more apologies piling up in her mouth. “...Why won’t you look at me?”

 

She flinches, the words seeming to carry more than just wanting her gaze; it doesn't escape her how desperate it sounds.

 

“I just,” Sooyoung shrugs, shifting to stare at a crack in cement. “I wanted you to know.”

 

Warmth cradles her cheek.

 

“Look at me,” auburn strands and a waning smile enters her vision, “Please, just this once. Look at me.”

 

Sooyoung raises her head; wonders if she’s reading too much into the words that sound like they came from somewhere farther than the lines she’s refused to cross.

 

“I know, okay?” Jiwoo’s thumb rubs circles on her skin, searching Sooyoung’s eyes like she’s trying to find something that might be there. Sooyoung’s not sure if she sees anything when Jiwoo chuckles, poking her forehead; she didn’t think a laugh could sound so sad. “...I know.”

 

-

 

“Just out of curiosity, did you ever wake up with bruises like Sooyoung?”

 

Jungeun doesn't expect a heavy loaded question while Haseul's passing over a stack of papers for her to carry.

 

She was on the way to dance practice, but watching Haseul juggle a bundle of white that were frighteningly taller than her had her second-guess Haseul’s ability to walk down the hallway without tripping over herself.

 

“No, actually.” She grunts, readjusting her hold. “Why?”

 

Haseul nods along to whatever's in her head; watching her mumble to herself like there was an equation to solve and she's at the brink of finding a solution.

 

“You thought about Sooyoung the whole time, huh.” Then, as if it came to her on a whim, pulling the door open to the student council room. “No wonder she struggled just to get up.”

 

Jungeun doesn't need to ask for clarification when it's as clear as the glimmer in mischievous eyes just what Haseul is implying.

 

She shoves her once the papers are safe on the table, ignores how hot her ears feel and hopes they aren't easy to see with her hair down; though her cheeks have probably given her away - no doubt pink and way too warm.

 

Haseul staggers, flailing arms attempting to help her balance.

 

“Wha— I didn't say anything!”

 

She sounds indignant, but the giggles spilling between her lips betray her.

 

Jungeun considers flinging her out the nearest window.

 

“But really,” Haseul's laughter trickles to a quiet smile, “I'm happy for you.”

 

She shrugs, spins around so that she could get back to where she was supposed to be going; attempts to cool off the flame still coloring her cheeks.

 

“...Thanks.”

 

“Though now that I know how it works, it's going to be a little hard to not think about you while I'm making out with Jinsol...” Haseul's fingers tap away at her chin, gaze off into the distance. “...So don't be surprised if you wake up with some bruises and—”

 

Oh good. What perfect timing.

 

A window.

 

“—W-Wait, Jungeun, I was just kidding!”

 

-

 

“You okay?”

 

Jungeun smiles at the question she’d heard so often, before. How much things have changed since then; she never would’ve guessed.  

 

She traces the name on her wrist. It doesn’t hurt to look at it anymore.

 

“Yeah,” Jungeun says, feels Sooyoung settle beside her, fingers slotting between hers as seamlessly as the moment they teetered between friendship and something more. She’s glad they’ve finally landed over one side more than the other. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

 

Jungeun turns to her, flutters nails over her name on Sooyoung’s skin, out in the open for everyone else to see – to know that she’s hers and no one else’s. Pride and happiness swell her heart. Guess the universe wasn’t so wrong after all.

 

Sooyoung leans in, her grin tickling Jungeun’s lips.

 

“You’ll do great, and even if you think you won’t,” Jungeun can’t hear anything else but Sooyoung’s voice, soft and gentle and present. “I’ll be here to remind you that you did. Whether you like it or not.” Sooyoung dips down for one more chaste kiss. “Now try to keep up.”  

 

She tastes like a dream.

 

Jungeun chuckles at the memory of a time they’ve already had this exchange, quips back _You sure love to talk about yourself,_ squeezing their hands together for one more silent promise of _good luck_ before the curtains rise and stage lights flicker open; heels clacking forward towards a crowd waiting just for them.

 

She can see their dance instructor and the rest of the class sitting up front; encouragement and support bleeding off their waving hands and mouthed words of _“You can do this!”_

Sooyoung stays close, her warmth keeping the nerves away; Jungeun knows they’ll do fine.

 

When the music starts, her body goes through the motions, instinctive. The rhythm flows through her limbs, seamless and in tune to every beat. Just like how they’ve rehearsed.

 

As soon as the lights beam above them on its final note, bright and blinding, the song fades into raucous cheers and whistles and a standing ovation; but they’re nothing compared to the sounds of Sooyoung’s breathless huffs – chest rising and falling, skin damp, ebony strands strewn over her shoulders – she looks just as tempting as the first time.

 

She won’t make the same mistake twice.

 

Jungeun pulls her in for a kiss she’s been wanting to have the moment they had their first practice, figures that her class and instructor wouldn’t mind the extra effort. By the way Sooyoung tugs her closer, angles to taste her deeper, she knows Sooyoung doesn’t mind, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was great writing Lipves; they were refreshing and undoubtedly just as fun to explore. I'm happy to be able to say that this is complete. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Until next time.


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